The Hermit
by Karina4
Summary: [Pre HBP] The story that began in The Chariot, now continues Draco realises that sometimes in life, all one can do is wait... [CHAPTER 19 UPDATED :o]
1. The Longest Day i

**__**

**Disclaimer: All the wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.**

**** The Hermit 

I would _strongly recommend_ that you read The Chariot first, because I am quite certain you won't know what the hell is going on in this phase of the story if you haven't! But I leave the decision making all to you, your choice…:o)

Oh AND this is Draco having lots of feelings for Harry, so if that does not rock your boat -do not read on. 

*****

**Chapter One – The Longest day (i)**

****

There was still time. It hadn't run out. Harry was still alive. _There was still time._

The next few moments in the alley _continued_ in a rapid motion of noise and sound. 

All Draco remembered is gripping onto Harry as tightly as he could. People were speaking but he wasn't registering much, just fragments of sentences here and there. His heart was palpitating tremulously in his chest and his head was filled with panic-stricken thoughts. 

He saw a glint near Harry's feet. Glass. Glasses. Harry's glasses. He stretched out his fingers and grabbed them.

'…..emergency portkey's been activated…'

Harry was going to be ok, he would be fine, he had to be, it would be fine. 

He kept the dialogue going on in his head as someone thrust an object into his hand, crushing Harry's glasses further into his palm. He felt a tug and he blinked, as the ground seemed to give way underneath him. The next second he found himself on the floor of a large room, joined by a few of the people from the alley. 

Harry was still in his arms. 

They were still in the same position. 

And the blood was still flowing. 

Now onto the white tiles.

It was a hospital. He could smell he was in a hospital. It looked like a hospital.

Then there were more people and more commotion. 

He felt hands jerk him slightly as they tried to take Harry away from him, and he held on doggedly for a moment longer.

'Let go son, we have to get him help.'

_Help, yes, Harry needed help._

He let go. 

Harry needed help.

In a daze he got to his feet and was ushered outside the room. 

There were lots of people. Going in and out of the room where they had kept Harry.

And then the door shut. 

Healers.

Yes, he was in a hospital. 

Harry would be ok. He would get better.

Draco stood shaking in the corridor staring at the closed door.

Magic. They would magically make Harry better. They would stop the blood. They would make him better. 

He could feel his throat tighten and he couldn't breathe. It was so hard to breathe.  

_What were they doing? Was he all right?_

He stood frozen to where he was standing for many minutes.

'We need to ask you some questions. You came in with Mr Potter yes?'

Draco turned at the sudden voices, and was faced with two men in green robes.

'Huh? Yeah,' he nodded.

'We need you tell us exactly what happened and what you saw.' 

They led Draco into a smaller room opposite to the one where Harry was.

Draco's word came out in broken sentences filled with lots of stuttering and pauses as he took in painful gasps of air just to keep on talking. He told them everything he could. From the moment he had entered Hogsmeade to when he had just arrived at the hospital.

When he finished, they looked at him with horrified expressions.

' How is he? Is he ok?' Draco's words rushed out earnestly in his need for some information. The two men looked at one another.

'What?' Draco cried out,' I just…is he ok?'

' We have several Healers and medi-wizards working on stabilising him. You sit here ok? And we'll send someone in shortly.'

'I…but….' Draco looked at them and shook his head,' will someone tell me how he is?'

One of the men nodded and said,' we'll send word son, you just sit tight.' 

Draco swallowed hard and shakily sat in a chair that was pushed towards him.

'Are you hurt?'

Draco looked up,' what? No I'm not I…' he looked down at his hands. In his right hand he was still holding onto Harry's glasses. They were smudgy with bloody fingerprints. They were covered in Harry's blood. His hands were covered in Harry's blood.

'It's his blood,' he whispered,' it's not mine, it's his,' he drew his fingers tight around the frames and held onto them with both hands.

'You just sit tight all right?' the same man repeated and they left the room.

Draco was alone, in a room, in a hospital and Harry was…

He sat quaking in the chair, ridden with anxiety as the minutes tick-tocked by.

…

He got up and paced around the room. He would go mad sitting here. He reached for the door and found that it did not open. Feeling alarmed, he tried to turn the handle vigorously. It wouldn't open. 

His wand… his cloak…. He couldn't remember.. Where were they?

He banged on the door loudly and called out.

A minute later the door opened and a kindly looking woman stood before him. She looked a little like Madam Pomfrey. 

'It's ok dear, you can come out.'

'It was locked,' he said,' I…'

' I know,' she said gently. She touched his arm,' here you can sit here.'

She motioned towards a chair against the wall, right next to Harry's door.

He didn't want to sit; he wanted to find out how Harry was.

'He's still in there?' Draco asked, licking his dry lips.

She nodded.

This all felt so surreal, so nightmarish. He felt as if he was caught in a terrible dream. It didn't feel real. He felt so bewildered and afraid. 

So afraid. 

Things like this didn't happen in real life. 

They couldn't. 

But they had, and it was very real.   

Harry.

There was no one he knew, no face he recognised. He felt a knot of tears catch his throat.

'Do you know how he is?' he said, fighting the urge to cry.

She shook her head this time. ' They're trying their best, we just have to wait.'

He forced himself to take a deep breath and giving up, sat down again.

Time passed; how much time he didn't know – only that it felt like forever.

Eventually the door opened and several Healers walked out. Draco rushed to the door just as an elderly man was shutting it behind him.

'How is he?' he asked, his words tripping over his breath. ' Can I go in?'

The man didn't respond looking flustered.

The kindly lady moved forward and past the man. She opened the door and let Draco in. 

' You can sit on the chair by the wall if you like, but they are coming back so try and keep out of the way.' 

Draco nodded gratefully.

There were a few chairs on the right hand side of the room. Harry's bed was on the left and was shielded from view by a thick curtain that surrounded it. 

He began to walk towards the curtain and was startled as the Healers came back into the room. He moved to the chairs, opposite the bed and sank down looking at the serious faces of the green robed persons as they disappeared behind the curtain. He could make out flashes of lights and murmurs from behind the divide.

As long as they were working on Harry, it meant that Harry was alive. And that was good. He was alive.

His heart was beating heavily in his chest and his mind was racing with unbidden thoughts. 

_What if Harry didn't make it? What if he didn't get better? What if..? No, no, he had to. He had to get better. He would._

Draco tried unsuccessfully to calm himself down. He took in a few long breaths as the flickering lights from behind the curtain seized. Yet another Healer came into the room and went behind the curtains. More words. After a while the curtain parted and several of them left, a few glancing towards Draco on their way out. Draco sprang up and ran to Harry's side.

He realised that he still had a death grip on Harry's glasses and laid them on the table beside the bed. He looked for a moment at Harry and then reached for Harry's hand and held it gently in his.

He trailed his thumb over the limp hand. Harry looked so pale. His lips were pale. The pink, soft, lips had gone a waxy yellow colour. His eyelashes and brows were a vivid black against the white pallor of his skin. 

All the blood had been wiped away. 

There had been so much blood.

It was so frightening seeing Harry lying so still like that. His eyes were closed and he looked….

Draco swallowed viciously and breathed in deeply. 

He bent his head to kiss Harry's hand.

Soon there was more noise as the door opened behind him.

'Draco? Draco? What on _earth_ are you doing here?' came an incredulous, sharp voice from behind him.

Draco swivelled his head to look at the stunned faces of Professor Snape, Remus Lupin and Dumbledore. Dumbledore's blue eyes pierced him for a moment and the silence swallowed the shock of the three new figures in the room who were now staring at Draco. 

And Draco's hand holding Harry's.

He did not speak. 

Dumbledore locked eyes with him for a fraction longer and then walked to the other side of Harry's bed and looked down with a sombre expression upon his face. His normally serene face was lined with distress and worry as he gazed at Harry.

Draco's eyes fell back once again to the bed.

'Dray-co?' Professor Snape persisted, emphasising his name clearly into two syllables. His voice was barely suppressing his disbelief. 

'Leave him be Severus, we have more pressing matters to attend to. Mr Malfoy would you be so kind as to let us alone with Harry for a few moments?'

Draco looked up at Dumbledore's face reluctantly and slowly lifted his hand away from Harry's. He nodded silently and then moved away, glancing at his housemaster quickly as he reached the door and went out.

He leaned against the wall with his head down as he waited. His face was devoid of expression as his thoughts crashed into one another inside his head.

_Now_ he was able to identify the sick feeling he'd had since yesterday. It hadn't been a 'bug' or nerves; it had been that 'feeling'. He had had that once before when he was younger. He remembered feeling so unsettled all day and his mother had thought that he was coming down with something. She was debating on whether to stay home as she was supposed to be going out to a party that night, but his father had reassured her that Draco was all right and that she should go.

Draco recalled feeling violently sick as he watched his mother leave the house. A few hours later they had received an urgent owl to say that Narcissa had been in a very bad accident and Lucius should come immediately. He had been six and they had all been in France visiting family.

He hadn't had that feeling again – till now. It wasn't to say that every time something bad happened he felt this way, he didn't. But once again he hadn't paid that distinct feeling any attention and had instead made up excuses for his fragile condition. He should have come to Harry sooner, he could have stopped this…

Two medi-wizards were approaching the room and then went inside. Draco slouched against the wall and stared at the floor. 

Finally after some time the door opened and Dumbledore came out, followed by Remus Lupin. He saw their feet and a swish of their cloaks as they walked away from the room and a bit further down the corridor. They were joined with staff members from the hospital who had been tending to Harry. Draco straightened up and walked slightly closer, so that he could hear what they were saying.

' …….it's going to take some considerable time for his wounds to heal. We've managed to save his spleen and patched up the other damaged organs but there have been multiple injuries to several of them and they are not healing as well as we had hoped. It is obvious that he has had a very large dose of dark magic penetrate his blood stream. Ironically enough it seems that the upsurge of magic in his body is what kept him alive through his considerable injuries. We have yet to identify what kind it is and how and if we can cure it. The next forty-eight hours will be very critical. We'll be monitoring him around the clock…'

'Draco?'

Draco started and looked behind him. He was standing face to face with Professor Snape.

'Err can I go back in?' he asked, meeting his housemaster's penetrating gaze for a fleeting second.

A mystified expression settled itself over his teacher but Draco did not respond to it.

'Can I?'

A slight cock of a brow and,' yes you may,' and Draco slipped back into the room.

He pulled a chair next to Harry's bed and sat in it. He automatically reached for Harry's hand again and kissed it as his eyes fixed on Harry's face. He sensed Professor Snape come in and stand behind him. There was a pregnant pause for a few moments and Draco resisted the burning heat of curiosity emanating from the potions master. He carried on softly stroking Harry's hand.

'_Pardon the intrusion Draco, but may I ask __exactly what _you_ are doing here? And _what _is the nature of your relationship with Potter?' He emphasised his words clearly, as if saying them that way would make him somehow believe the situation better._

Draco could hear the deep curiosity simmering under the words. It was against the professor's nature to be asking such personal questions and it was obvious that his level of incredulity was being tested. He had been almost rendered speechless earlier. Draco could tell. 

He let the silence fall around them once again. He had not planned for anyone to be finding out about him and Harry…certainly not in this way. But it didn't seem to matter now. It wasn't important. It wasn't _supposed _to be this way but nothing about today had gone to plan and nor had it been forgiving. It had been unrelenting in its anguish and admitting how he felt about Harry was the only bloom amongst the bitter and twisted thorns.

He sighed and then started to speak. 

'I was going to apologise,' Draco said softly.' I was going to apologise and we were going to be okay. I'd hoped. I'd thought it all out and planned it.'

A pause. 

'I love him.'

There he had said it. 

He had said it in front of another person who was _not_ Harry and nothing had happened. The universe had _not stopped spinning; the land had __not cracked open. He had _not_ been fired with thunderbolts. Time had _not _stood still. Nothing had happened at all. The only impact the words had had were undoubtedly on his professor. Draco heard him suck in a shocked gasp, which he failed to disguise in his obvious horror. _

But it didn't matter. 

Draco didn't care much for anyone's horror; he was too fully entrenched in his own horror to accommodate anyone else's.

Professor Snape did not speak a word and the quiet drew out in between them like a long stretch of desert, distancing them further apart. Further than the few short metres of the room. Everything seemed distant and vague- except _Harry. _

All he could see was Harry.

'For how long Draco?' the words lay heavily in the air again.

Draco shrugged tiredly,' a few weeks. It's been a few weeks. I ended it with him yesterday. I told him I didn't want to be with him. That it had all been a lie. I spent the whole day regretting what I had done and spent hours trying to think of how to apologise to him. I waited all day…' his voice suddenly broke.

He felt tears well in his eyes and burn the rims. ' I waited all day to say sorry and I never did. I waited too long and it's all my fault.'

The tears then slipped down his cheeks, and he let them. He didn't care. He didn't care who saw them or what they made of them. So what? So fucking what?

'What is your fault?'

' I should have said sorry earlier,' he sniffed. 'I should have done it when I had the chance to,' he cried.' I should have done it at breakfast but I was worried about everybody looking at us and what they would think. What would happen? I wasted so much time.'

Who cared if people found out? So what if he had gone up to Harry at breakfast? 

Harry was struggling for his life and he had been worried about what people would think?

He felt his self-loathing travel up his throat.

' I could have stopped him from going to town,' he choked.' Maybe if I had said sorry I could have got him to listen and we could have spent the day together at school. Maybe I could have gone to town with him. He would never have been alone and I could have stopped it. It's my fault. If I hadn't….' he started to sob then. He couldn't stop himself. The sobs tore out of him and he let them engulf him.

'It's my fault. If I had been with him this wouldn't have _happened_. I should have said _sorry. I should _never _have broken up with him in the first place. It was _him_. I saw _him_. __He did this and I could have stopped it.'_

'Draco it is most certainly not your fault. Do you honestly think that the Dark Lord had happened upon Potter by chance? He must have been planning this for months. You cannot for even a minute begin to think that you could have prevented this from happening. If it didn't happen today then it would have happened on the next trip to Hogsmeade. The Easter holidays, the summer holidays. He would have done this eventually. Maybe you would have bought Potter some time but if the Dark Lord was meaning for this to happen, he would have seen to it that it would. He would have stopped at nothing Draco. Who knows, even if you had been there at the time, one can't tell if you would have prevented it at all.'

Draco suddenly turned his face towards him, ' did you know that this would happen? Did you know what he was planning?'

'No Draco I did not.'

Draco gave a once nod and felt his heart tug.

'He must have been in so much pain,' he felt his tears spill and wet his face. ' It must have hurt so much. I can't believe it. I saw him earlier and thought that I would be able to…. I can't believe what's happened.'

'Draco these things rarely come with prior warning. They happen when you least expect it and they turn your world upside down in a space of a few minutes. Nothing is ever the same again. And they happen Draco, all the time.'

Draco turned his head and cast an eye at Professor Snape's unmoving expression. Was he speaking from experience? It certainly sounded like it.

'Has Dumbledore called his family?' Draco asked wiping his eyes.

Professor Snape regarded him directly under his unwavering gaze. ' I assume he has contacted those who need to be notified.'

'His godfather?' Draco stumbled, not quite sure how much the professor knew, 'I mean I know he is umm you know, but he is an Animagus right? He could, I dunno. Harry would want him here wouldn't he?'

He looked at Harry's face and reached out and unnecessarily stroked his hair back off his forehead.

Professor Snape was silent and Draco looked at him enquiringly,' sir?'

Professor Snape rubbed his chin and looked decidedly uncomfortable,' his godfather is no longer alive Draco. He died last year, just before the summer term ended.'

Draco's mouth fell open,' what? He died? But….. I didn't know that. No one does. I mean in the Slytherin house. No one has said anything about Black dying…' he trailed off. 

Harry hadn't said a word. Draco hadn't known. Not that Harry and him had shared many details about their personal lives but still… His godfather had died?

The timeline of events clicked swiftly in his head.

'The night my father got arrested?'

'Yes.'

'How did he die?'

'Draco, I don't think I would be the best person to disclose such details to you…'

'What? Why not?' his stomach lurched,' it didn't have something to do with my father did it?'

'No Draco,' the professor soothed,' your father was not involved in Black's demise.'

'How did he die?' Draco asked again.

'This is not the time or place to discuss such things.'

Draco sighed. Professor Snape was right. 

'Draco, I cannot begin to stress how vulnerable a place you are situating yourself in. Being here, like this. I respect that your private matters are your own but….' the professor faltered.

' I know what you are saying sir, but none of that matters. Harry making it through is the only thing of any importance to me right now. I'll deal with the rest later. Please. Don't try and talk me out of anything, because I will not listen.'

He turned his face back to Harry. 

'There are some things that I need to see to Draco. You will be all right here?'

'I'll be fine sir.'

He heard Professor Snape walk out of the room. He leant over and touched Harry's forehead. He was cool to touch but not cold. Draco looked at the bedside cabinet and saw a glass of water sitting upon it. He dipped his forefinger into it and hunched over to moisten Harry's lips. He ran his fingertip gently over the soft dry lips, dampening them. 

He sat back into his seat. The Healers continued to come in and out of the room but they did not ask Draco to leave. Draco's gaze fell to Harry's glasses. He reached for them and got a tissue to wipe the lenses. He wiped them till they sparkled and set them back onto the cabinet. 

_He'll need them when he wakes up,_ Draco thought. 

He suddenly saw blood. At the corner of Harry's mouth. 

He grabbed a tissue and wiped the small trickle of red away. A bubble of panic rose within him again. His hands shook as the scarlet shade soaked into the white tissue. He yelled out and two Healers rushed in quickly. Draco showed them the tissue.

'He had blood coming out of his mouth.' 

They nodded and asked Draco to leave the room as they approached Harry quickly.

He stood outside as another gentleman joined the team inside the room. 

Five minutes later, the door opened again and he received a strained smile from one of the men. 

'I can go back in?'

The man nodded and Draco went back inside.

A half an hour or so later, the door to the room opened once again.

'Still here Mr Malfoy?'

Dumbledore.

'I wondered if you might want to have a wash. Perhaps you would like to freshen up?'

Draco shook his head,' No I'm fine thank you. Did you notify Harry's family?' 

He lifted his head and looked into the grave face of the tall, elderly wizard.

'I have notified the appropriate people yes.' A momentary pause and then, 'you would be more comfortable back at school Mr Malfoy. Will you not consider it?'

Draco instantly knew what the headmaster was getting at.

'No thank you. I'm not going anywhere. I am not leaving his side. No one can make me or force me to do so. I just want to be here and stay here with him,' Draco finished with a determined edge to his voice. 

He would under no circumstances leave Harry's side. He was not going to go anywhere tonight.

**** 

Cont…


	2. The Longest Day ii

**Disclaimer: All the wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.**

****

Chapter Two – The Longest day (ii) 

****

As Draco paced around the small room, his head swam and he felt himself sway unsteadily. His nerves were shattered and he slouched down into the chair next to the bed for the umpteenth time in so many hours. He dipped his finger into the glass of water again and wet Harry's lips carefully. He placed a soft kiss on Harry's cheek and gently caressed it. 

'You're going to be ok. You're going to be fine. Just hold on please.'

He was still breathing and as long as he was breathing he was alive. Alive meant that there was hope and he would get better. He would. He was strong; he'd get better. He'd be fine. It would be fine.

He did not want to acknowledge the looks upon many of the Healer's faces and the way they looked at him. The way the Auror's had looked in the alleyway. The unspoken words that communicated through the darkening of their eyes. 'Prepare yourself', they seemed to say.

But he wouldn't prepare himself for anything. 

Nothing. 

Nothing other than Harry living and Harry getting better. He was _not going to prepare himself._

His scattered thoughts ran in different directions as an image of a white hand filtered past his eyes.

The Dark Lord.

He felt a wave of sickness and disgust churn his stomach. There had been nothing 'Lordly' about that. …'Thing'. He wasn't even human. He was a monster. Draco had not exactly imagined what _he_ would look like, only that he had thought of _him_ to be some impressive, grand figure. The way people talked of _him in hushed awed voices, he had expected something…. quite …different. He knew that the 'Dark Lord' had undergone dark magical transformations but perhaps naively, he had imagined him to still look human; like a man._

But that 'Thing'…. with its red eyes and thin, white, spindly body. 

_Creature._

And _that _is whom my father works for, he thought nauseously. That is whom he serves. Serves – that had been his father's word. Draco felt repulsed. He was not a 'Dark Lord'. He was not a Lord. He was Voldemort. A hideous distortion of a man. Draco had seen _him_ for himself. Evil embodied in a foul manifestation. There was nothing inspiring about that. And his father had gone to jail for that 'Thing'. Draco shook his head to clear the disturbing images.

His eyes were constantly tuned in on Harry, hardly straying away for a few seconds. He wished he could do something useful. He felt so powerless and despondent. He wished he could make Harry better somehow. Words of love and tears of grief did not achieve anything. They were useless. It didn't matter what Professor Snape had said, it _had been his fault. _

He had waited all day. 

He had been a coward. 

He suddenly remembered a memory that he had long forgotten. He and Harry had been eleven years old, and they were serving detention together in the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid had paired Draco off with Harry, after Draco had given Longbottom a scare. He had been walking with Harry and Hagrid's boarhound for about half an hour in the forest- in complete silence, when they noticed the unicorn blood getting thicker. Draco had advanced forward, and Harry had held him back.

They had found the unicorn along with something else. 

A figure that had been sucking on the unicorn's blood.

Draco had felt immediate fear flood into his body and had bolted from the scene, leaving Harry alone to deal with the cloaked figure. 

Just as he had again left Harry alone tonight. 

That figure had been Quirrel. The rumours had passed through the Slytherin house over the years. That Quirrel had been attempting to vivify the 'Dark Lord'. That the 'Dark Lord' had sought refuge _in_ Quirrel. 

And that night Draco had seen _him_, in neither shape nor form but his presence had been there that night.  

Before he had got his body back.

_Why hadn't I made the connection before? _Draco thought.

Because it had not concerned him that's why. He hadn't taken into account the ramifications of the rise of the 'Dark Lord'. His childish naiveté had basked in the drama of it all. 

The elusory glamour of it all.

And now he had seen the harsh reality for himself, the inhumane, venomous barbarity of the 'Dark Lord'.  

The useless tears seared his eyes again.

His self-pity could wait. 

_Harry had to get better._

That's all he knew. All he would know for now.

He rested his elbow on the mattress, propping his head up in his palm. He tenderly stroked Harry's hand with his right hand and then slipped his fingers through Harry's, clasping it gently.

He then lifted Harry's hand in between both his own and brought them close to his lips. 

It was very quiet all around. Must be night time by now. The room seemed darker all around, with a few dim lights highlighting Harry's bed. The glow of the light eerily covered the tops of Harry's sheets and his face, casting a weak beam around the bed. The shadows stretched out across the floor, playing darkly with one another on the walls. 

There had to be something that he could do for Harry. 

Anything. 

Something.

He closed his eyes and started to pray. 

He had never been religious, neither were his family, and he knew that it was highly hypocritical of him to start to pray now. He wasn't sure if he even believed in a God but he wanted to do anything that might even give Harry a chance. Just in case there was a God who might listen to his pleas. Even if it tipped the scales a fraction in Harry's favour somewhere in the great divide. Just something that he could do whilst he was sitting here. 

Anything. 

Something. 

Please.

And so he prayed. His eyes closed and feeling Harry's hand in between his own, he prayed. 

Eventually he could feel the weariness begin to settle into his bones. His eyes felt heavy and tired. His back ached and his head ached. Unwillingly his eyelids began to droop and exhaustion took over his body.

*

Dark red rivulets of blood ran like thin tributaries into the lanes of the cobble-stoned ground. They snaked into the little grooves, spreading out like veins found on a leaf. Like spiders reaching out their long thin legs and scuttling across the stone. Spidery, slinking, seeping, flowing. 

_Blood. _

_Spurting. _

_Rushing. _

_Dripping._

Blood was staining Harry's chin. Harry choked and a bubble of red pressed out from his lips. It burst and a gush of crimson poured down his skin. The blood had stained. Even when you wiped it away it left a dark red ring. An outline of blood. A rim of blood. A glint of steel- blood dripping from the tip. A scream. And then in a swirl of colour Draco was by Harry's side. His feet jolted onto the ground and he grabbed Harry's hand. It was okay because he had saved Harry. Harry was all right. And there were clouds and blue skies. And then he saw a blood red V. It was dripping high up. Like the Dark Mark in the sky but a V. And the blood was dripping and falling like rain down onto the people. The blue sky turned purple. Blue mixing with the red. And it rained down onto the people. 

_It was raining blood…_

Draco awoke with a jolt. He stared ahead blankly as his heart hammered in his chest. His pulse pounding loudly in his ears. His eyes fell to Harry. He watched carefully. His eyes steadily staring for some movement. 

Harry's chest rose and fell. 

The time lapse between his every breath had Draco holding his own breath anxiously. 

Watching. 

Harry was still breathing. 

Draco let out a ragged sigh and then turned his head, his neck protesting stiffly. He noticed a blanket had been placed over his shoulders and a set of clothes folded neatly at the corner of the sheet on the bed. He straightened his back and felt it crick uncomfortably. He leaned over near to Harry and brushed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Getting up, he shook out his legs. His arms hurt. His muscles in his arms hurt. 

_What time was it?_

He walked over to the foot of the bed and stared down at Harry. He watched Harry breathe for some minutes.

He was still standing there staring, when the door opened quietly and Professor Snape and Remus Lupin walked in. 

'You're awake,' his professor said crisply. ' Please go and get something to eat and I suggest you go and freshen up a bit..' Professor Snape eyed him critically and judging from his look, Draco assumed he looked as terrible as he felt.

'Maybe I'll use the bathroom,' he shrugged.

He looked at Harry and saw a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth again. He rushed forward and wiped it away carefully with a screwed up tissue that was in his pocket. Lupin's eyes followed his movement.

'He bled like this earlier,' Draco told him,' I called the Healer to come in.'

Lupin nodded. He was standing over Harry, his face empty of any emotion. The only thing to give away his state of mind were his hands. They were shaking. Draco swiftly recognized that the werewolf had indeed been a good friend of Harry's parents. He cared for Harry more than an ex-student it would seem.  

Draco picked up the set of clothes from the bed. Professor Snape nodded.

'I won't be long.'

'It is all right Draco. Go drink something at least,' Professor Snape told him.

Draco inclined his head slightly and took a quick look at Harry before he left the room.

The lights were so bright in the corridor. He squinted against them and followed the signs to the washrooms. 

He found the men's and opened the door. 

_Oh my god. _

He was immediately faced with his reflection in the mirror as soon as he walked into the toilets, and could not help the sharp intake of breath that escaped his mouth. His face was ashen and any colour he previously had in it, looked like it had been literally wrung out. His eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot with colourless iris's making his pupils look like pieces of coal in circular puddles of grey, misty water. They were wide and manic looking. He had blood staining his white blond hair, which fell in strands around his equally bloodstained face. His hands had a marbled effect of dried blood in the bright light. His jumper had also stiffened where the patches of blood were. 

Letting out a sigh he pulled his jumper off over his head and saw further patches of crimson on his white shirt. He unbuttoned it. The blood had seeped through to his skin. He looked at the shower stalls. Maybe he could quickly rinse himself before putting on the new set of clothes.

He started to walk and suddenly felt queasy as the room spun nauseatingly. He bent over the sink and retched. The retching was followed by vomiting up whatever he had had for his last meal. The stench of sick and his stomach feeling so unsettled made him feel even more awful. He rinsed out his mouth and shakily slipped onto the ground trying to compose himself. 

Once the dizziness passed he got up on unsteady feet and picked up the bundle of clothes. Where was his wand again? 

He made his way towards the stalls and shed his clothes and stepped under the shower.

He rubbed his hair and skin vigorously. He saw the blood mix in with the water as it slipped down his body and by his feet. 

Red water. 

Harry's blood. 

He scrubbed himself hurriedly and switched off the shower and reached for a towel from the rack in the corner. 

He dried quickly and donned the clean clothing. Pushing back his wet hair he looked at his blood marked clothes. He didn't want to throw them away. Not right now. He tucked them under his arm and left the washroom. His thoughts at last forming some kind of linear pattern. He took a few deep breaths as he walked down the corridor. He had to focus all his energy on Harry getting better.

Harry.

His stomach rumbled. He felt weak and drained. For practical reasons he really ought to get something into his stomach, he thought. He went up to the fifth floor and grabbed a pastry and a cup of tea. He couldn't eat fast enough as he chewed and gulped in record time. _Hurry up, hurry up._ He blew on the hot liquid and stirred it and blew on it and stirred it and then tipped it down his throat. It scalded his tongue but he was past caring. Sustenance had been had and he did feel a little better.

Now he could go down and stay awake without folding over with fatigue. He saw a clock in the main corridor. It was four thirty in the morning. 

As he approached Harry's room he saw a small crowd of people standing outside it. Weasley's father was there. And that teacher from the fourth year with the funny eye. The one who had…., Dumbledore was there too.

They were talking in hushed voices and they all looked sombre with solemn expressions. 

_What was going on?_ His heart started to race. 

_Oh no…_ he waited for a moment feeling petrified. He saw Weasley's father and Mad-eye leave. 

He felt dread well up inside of him. 

_Harry. _

He hadn't been gone that long…

He ran up to them and Professor Snape looked at him. Draco could swear he almost read pity in his eyes. His voice broke. 

'What's happened?' he croaked. 'What…'

There was silence.

'He's dead isn't he?' He felt his heart stop as sheer terror gripped him once again.

'No, he isn't.'

 *

Tbc…

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**I always want to keep the reviewers who have reviewed visual you know… it's important to take note of people who forward comments to you. So thanks!! :o)**

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Original Thank- you notes for Chapter Nineteen 

Avonne, Shui_Wing0, Hayley, kurai_princess, Marlene, Green Eyed Smurf, high?D, doompaw, Neena, Harmoni, Pinkprincess, artemis astralstar, Sardius-Sky, Lrigelbbub, Sei Silver, nightwing, GO ONNNN!!!!! * _giggles_ *, Lexicon Katzchen, Daily Prophetess, Cleo, Anomaly. 

Dark Devotion – Thank you so much for the reviews, you were very sweet and kind. 

Sapphrine – Gosh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry at all!

malfoysnogger - You've always been a very treasured reviewer. I hope I can keep you for a bit longer…

shinny – You are always so sweet. I kinda love you.

kendra1117 – Sorry I did take a long time posting the final chapter of The Chariot. I wonder if it was worth waiting for. I guess I'll see if you ever review ever again!

Riane - Lover of long chapters. It certainly isn't goodbye at all. 

Miranda - Yeah Draco does dislike Ginny greatly!

Sailor Book/Water Mistress – It wasn't very happy no… ooppss!

Brenna8 – You were close with the attack thing. Very good. 

Lyressa-cat - I'm glad you came out of lurkerdom! 

eclecticity- I'm always so grateful that you review. I hope I can keep you too. 

Regina – I'm glad you don't think Draco is an ass!

Chyna16 – I'm glad you nosed too! And you can annoy me all you want.

cassie@hotmail - I wish we had games like that too.

Dragenphly – Aww thanks. Draco was mean but he knows that now, if that is any kind of consolation.

Awww? - * smile * Thanks for reviewing twice. How sweet. 

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**And original Thank you notes for Chapter Twenty of The Chariot**

_coriander_ – I am sorry but I couldn't warn you and say it's a death fic – cos it wasn't. I hope you read on. 

_malfoysnogger_ – Thanks for the review. I agree, it was abrupt. That's why I'm still here and I would love you to read on. You've kept me company for a while now; I'd like it for a little longer if I could. But of course, only if you wish to.

_Shinny_ – Don't hate me! I would be sad if _you really_ hated me. I'm hoping that you were just upset with me and will carry on reading the fic. I couldn't say much in the email otherwise I'd give away too much. Friends? 

_BGM(BadGirlMalfoy)----Blackadder_ – Thanks for the review. Yikes! Well I have no idea if you are reading this, I'm sorry that I upset you that much.

_AlreadyGone _– Thanks for the review. I hope the follow on helps iron things out a little, though I guess if you didn't like the last few chapters- you aren't going to like much of what I write.

_Dil Se_ – Thanks for the review. It's ok! I won't need any cash incentives. Just you carrying on reading is more than enough :o)

_Rarity88 _– Thanks for the reviews. I'm sorry you disliked the last few chapters so much and I guess I'll say thank you for all the reviews you have given me in the past. I can't guarantee that I won't write chapters similar to eighteen and nineteen or even twenty and therefore perhaps you won't like this fic or anything else I write in the future. 

_eclecticity _– I'm so glad you reviewed! Thank you. And being a sicko that I am, I'm always glad when you do comment. You've been sweetly consistent over the last half of The Chariot and I always feel happier to know that you are still reading it.

_TheDeathKitty _– Thanks for your review, and if you are reading this, I'm not sure if you would prefer to keep the ending of The Chariot as your 'real' ending – you know, if you like it better that way.

_chayenne _– Thanks for the review . I'm sorry but I won't be deleting anything I write. It is my fault that I led you to believe that I had ended the fic there, so all your comments were warranted. But if you felt that the fic lost its appeal completely I don't know whether it will be made any better with the continuation. I really can't say that you won't be disappointed if you carry on reading, it is entirely up to you.

_HDlove_ - Thanks for the review and again if the last few chapters disappointed you, I don't think you'd like much of what I write in the future either.

_Cookie_- Thank you ever so much for the comment and your support was greatly appreciated. But I know what I did and knew that I would get all sorts of comments so it's ok. I took a plunge. Hehee. But you were so sweet. :o)

_Bad-Azz-Slytherin + Choas_ – Thanks for the review. I couldn't write The End cos it wasn't. 

_care _– Thanks but I can see how so many were dissatisfied with the 'ending'. But I have loads more to tell if you want to read on.

_ShrineMaiden _– Thanks for the review. You weren't the only one who thought the last chapter was written horribly. I wanted to try and separate all the emotion from the attack but I guess I didn't do it all that well. I hope you carry on reading, if you want. 

_dracos-girl8706_ – Thanks for the review . I'd hand you tissues if I could, I hope the continuation helps a little…

_Baby Ty Ty_ – Thanks for the review. I'm not sure if you reading The Hermit will satisfy you any better either. If you didn't like that last few chapters, chances are you won't like much of what I will continue to write. 

_Moon Faery_ – Thanks for your review. I hope it makes a little more sense now. 

_Madeleine Mitchell Carr_ – Thanks, you were honest and I appreciate it. If only some of the other reviewers could have been equally as articulate = ) I hope you're still reading and kinda like it still, perhaps. …

_Accio Draco Malfoy_ – Thanks, I totally agree and there is no need for a re-write cos that wasn't the end. They are meant to be. I still believe that :o)

_Raeine _ - Thanks for your review. His friends knew he seemed a bit down but I think that he could have quite easily slipped out unnoticed. Ron and Hermione weren't there and Luna was busy, Ginny had left so…..I think it is plausible to say he went into the alley without anyone realising. At least that is what I think anyway and it does happen so… But I really hope you carry on reading. Maybe you feel a little better? I don't know. 

_Mr Agree'er_ – You made your point loud and clear but I'm still going to carry on writing this fic. Perhaps many people did agree with you, but I'm pretty sure you aren't in any position to speak for **all **the readers.

_RainSW6 _– Thanks for your comments and by no means did I think that you were criticising me. You were very sweet.

_Boredreviewer _– I get it crikey, you were really _bored_, but why on earth did you continue to read it? I'm kinda astonished.

_Moxy_ – Thank you, but I deserved a lot of the comments, not ALL of them (at least I don't think I did * blows nose *). Anyway, I hope you like The Hermit. 

_The Ghoul –_ Well I guess that is your opinion. But there will be no re-writes and I will continue to write all the H/D romance's I want.

_Amerius_ – So would I be correct to assume that you are not reading this?! In fact I wasn't even aware that you were reading my fic in the first place. Maybe I have lost readers, I don't know. We'll see, and if I have then so be it. You win some you lose some. 

_Cora_ – Thank you so much. I was so grateful for any kind words at one point it was a bit sad! :o) 

_BernardIII_ – Wow, it was good to know that you amongst others have wasted your time saying how 'shit' my fic was. A few of the other comments make sense now. 

_Needle in the Hay _My knightee(?) in shining armour. You and Cora definitely made that page of emails more bearable. I'm so grateful – how sweet. I feel like I should give you something. Like a sweet or a toy or something. @ Maybe you like flowers. I hope my virtual hug will be enough. Many thanks.

_Michae_l- Thanks, I had gathered a lot of that for myself. Bland? Well in that case I don't think I'll be catering much for your taste buds in future so it's only fair to tell you.

_Alexander_ – So you thought you'd try and make the quota even? Geez, ''really feeling the love''. Surely you have something better to do with your time. 

_Pinkprincess_ – Thanks for your review. Perhaps you meant that in a derogatory term but to an extent I agree with you so I don't mind your comment at all. First of all I'm not J.K, so I cannot in any way write the characters as she would do. Secondly this is a romance between Harry and Draco. What are the odds of that happening in canon? :o) So already Harry and Draco are probably OOC and I don't have a problem with that. I am trying to be as realistic as 'possible' but lets face it – that is virtually impossible. For **me** anyway, I know there are a lot of talented writers out there who do a better IC portrayal of the characters than I do. I'm trying but this is my interpretation of my version of Harry and Draco and what they would be like in my story. So if you feel they are OOC that is fine and dandy by me. 

_gemini _– Thanks for your review. I highly doubt it getting _well known * _giggles_* _but how kind of you to say it. I hope you continue to read the story in that case. 

_Ice-queen_ – Believe it or not I do spend enough time thinking about how I am portraying the characters in the fic. Perhaps this is the best I can do and if you don't like it then by no means am I forcing you to read anything I write. 

_Natasha_ – My point? I don't know. I wanted to write a story and will continue to write it. My point is my enjoyment of sharing this story with people who want to read it if they would like to.

_Riane!!!, Chyna16, Amarantha Liriel, wingedlover27, ciceronian, harrypotterfreak, Crow21681, blackmoon, Dexter, Daily Prophetess, beezy, Dark Devotion, Carrie, Godlovesme, Dragon Phoenix, GordosGirlie, Spidermonkey-Demon, Cece1, mr.hyde, Hyperbole, chow_mein07, Juli3ta, Brenna8, p3stardaze, ruella, Kristen, Ana, charmedz, Sei Silver, Morgan, kurai-princess, Hey Baby1, Phayze, Sequel Reader, ShadowFox20, Goddess4, SlytherinSexGoddess, Stella By Starlight, Luna Aelf Writer, ironfish, Sapphrine, Sascha, Faby, Chillkroete, disapointed girl, Jericho-sama, Spazzy, IzztKatt, Reese, Serpent of Light, Dissapointed, WhisperElmwood, shinomorikrazd, Jolene, Calliope, Disgruntled Reviewer, silv, Kathleen, MinervaMgnll.WTF,YamiMist, Skylar Felton, LeilaPOtter, -Jewel~ .Cruella-De-Ville, Chel**, **lexus, Dragenphly,Sarah, padfoot, CALLISTO,Kelly, _galacticoutlaw, Lupin-RocKs, LMG, ~pixie-trail~ .


	3. Revelations

**Disclaimer: Miss Rowling High Priestess of The Harry Potter Kingdom owns everything in her lovely bubble filled world.  I just snuck in  :o)**

**Warning: Draco still angsting and in love with Harry all at the same time****.   **(Run for the hills! Only kidding! Come back :o) )

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Karina Blithering: I won't keep you! But I thought I should say that my earlier ''note's page'' was not meant to draw out any apologies! Lots of people got to have their say and I thought I should to- seeing you know, as I was the one to write the story. I feel bad now cos so many of you have been _so sweet and so supportive. You were so kind._

So I am saying thank you to all the lovelypeople in the only way I know how- by getting this chapter out earlier than anticipated. :o) Oh and Yes I am still having FUN! So much fun in fact that I am drowning in the _fun-ness_ of it all snicker See my head bobbling? Yeah.

_I must credit ***DeepAmethyst* **for her help on the final chapter of The Chariot and the first two chapters of The Hermit. And _***Coffeecat*** _wears a credit badge for this chapter :o) I just pinned it on her._

P.S - I was told wisely that I should inform you that this is a _very _long fic, and I would ask you to be patient and read on. It is a romance and yes it has its fair degree of angst and drama. I hope you'll give it a chance and stick with it/ or not whatever you like. Thanks. 

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_Chapter Three_

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Revelations 

Continued from Chapter Two: 

_'He's dead isn't he?' He felt his heart stop as sheer terror gripped him once again._

_'No, he isn't.'_

'He is not dead,' said his potions master and Draco felt almost faint with relief. 

'But there are some complications,' the headmaster added in a low voice.

'What?' Draco asked quickly,' what are they? Please I want to know.'

Dumbledore eyed him shrewdly for a moment. He then turned to Lupin and Professor Snape and said,' we had better go in.'

He opened the door to Harry's room and they trailed in behind him. Draco immediately went to Harry's side, his heart racing uncontrollably from the scare a few moments ago. 

His throat tightened and he bit his lip hard, focusing on chewing the tender skin viciously rather than letting his tears fall once again. He had to be stronger than this. For Harry. He had to be.

'What are the complications?' Professor Snape asked Dumbledore, the question distracting Draco from his tears.

The tall wizard inclined his head towards Lupin. His teacher raised his eyebrows and looked at Lupin expectantly.

'Well?' came the voice with a waspish ring to it.

Lupin shot Draco a quick suspicious glance as he opened his mouth.

'Draco, perhaps you should leave the room,' Professor Snape interrupted before Lupin got a word out. Dumbledore's eyes rested on Draco with an interested air but he did not speak.

'No,' Draco said firmly, looking at all three men,' I'm not a _child_. I'm _seventeen and I want to know, I need to know…' he stammered suddenly and cleared his throat as they continued to gaze at him. 'I… care for him. Please go on. Discuss whatever you need to discuss. I'm not going to tell anyone, and you don't need to worry.  I'm not in any under-plot with Vol….Voldemort for God's sake.'_

Professor Snape's expression hardened and his dark eyes narrowed as Draco held his chin up firmly. 

Lupin's head had snapped up at Draco's words and Dumbledore merely nodded.

'Very well Mr Malfoy. You will not be treated like a child, but these are extremely serious circumstances and your discretion is very important to Harry's well being.'

'You have my word, I won't do anything that will harm him,' _anymore his conscience said spitefully._

'Remus, go on please, we don't have time, what have you found?'

Lupin swallowed and then cleared his throat. 

'I suspected earlier but I needed to be sure, so I went back to do some research and I'm fairly certain I know what is wrong with Harry. I have talked to the Healer in charge, and though he is a bit wary to agree with me he believes that there is a good chance I am right.' 

Draco quietly set his clothes down on the floor, sat back down in the seat next to the bed and held Harry's hand in his again. He felt the need to keep touching him just to make sure...

Lupin walked over to Harry's other side and looked down at the motionless figure.

'I believe that Voldemort has put him under the Minuom curse.'

_'Impossible_,' Professor Snape hissed, looking stunned.

'Yes that is what I thought also but everything is indicating towards it,' Lupin said looking up. 'Are you familiar with it Albus?'

'I have heard of it yes, but if you would elaborate what you know.'

Draco listened attentively.

Lupin took a deep breath and began,' well I think that the curse derives from an ancient text of many centuries ago. The Cimmerian Grimoire.'

'That's a _myth_,' Professor Snape insisted dryly. ' There is no proof that it existed, it is a myth.'

'Or so it was thought to be a myth,' Lupin continued.' The legend of it has been repeated so many times that the reality became a myth, nothing more than folklore. The western world wrote it off as a mythical story yes, but there are some parts of the world that still today would lay testament to its existence.'

Professor Snape pursed his lips and Dumbledore sat down in a chair next to the wall. Lupin placed a hand on his chest and then proceeded on in his hoarse voice, which seemed even more pronounced as he carried on speaking.

'Grimoires are practically impenetrable books and can only be opened by immortal wizards. They are written in dead languages and some claim that the Cimmerian Grimoire's manuscript is written in blood and bound in the first victim's skin.

The wizard, to whom it belonged, eventually buried it in an attempt to rid the knowledge of its whereabouts. He was the head of a large group of wizards and was afraid that somehow the others may get a hold of it and learn how to use it against him. Even though they were all part of the same sect, they trusted no one but themselves and he was concerned that perhaps they may try to overthrow him.' 

Professor Snape looked like he agreed with that theory.

'He was absolutely correct in his suspicions and his fellow companions did indeed try to get a hold of the Grimoire. However, they did not succeed in immortalising themselves beforehand and it could not be opened. The name of the wizard is unknown, but it is believed that he captured his traitors and initiated the Minuom curse upon them. 

This curse was one of many found in the book and would most certainly be equivalent to an Unforgivable curse nowadays. The victims all died from the curse and there have never been any tales of any survivors or cures. However, we have come a long way since then and I believe that we may be able to find a way around it.'

Lupin paused momentarily catching his breath,' I believe that Voldemort has finally found success in his quest for immortality. There are specific rituals that must be performed before one can hope to initiate the curse.' 

Dumbledore leaned forward slightly and Lupin paced around the room looking down at his footsteps. 

'We've all been worried about the fact that no one has heard of his whereabouts since last summer. I believe he has been underground going through further transformation, making himself even more powerful. The Minuom curse is not just a curse spoken with a few words and a wand. It takes months of preparation.' 

Draco kept his eyes on Lupin's figure as he continued to walk to and fro. Dumbledore was listening avidly and Professor Snape stood against the wall with a scowl firmly in place across his features. 

'The point of the curse is to show how much power the curser wields over their victim. I think he did not mean for Harry to die, that, in fact, he was counting on Harry to live. Therefore, he could execute the curse fully and before our eyes. 

The curse can only be carried out on very powerful wizards. The only good thing that has come out of this is that we know Harry is indeed a very powerful wizard to be able to withstand the onslaught of the curse. A weaker wizard would have died almost immediately. However, if Harry lives long enough for the curse to take affect, Voldemort will also know that Harry is very powerful and he will take great pleasure in killing him slowly right in front of us. 

One of the rituals for immortality is to drink a potion called the Samanixin. The ingredients I don't know of…' he paused and looked at Professor Snape questioningly and Professor Snape shook his head. Lupin gave a small nod and carried on. 

'The drinker enters an underground cavern for seven days. They drink the potion and wait for it to take its course. They vomit blood and then there is swelling of the muscles and worms creep out from all parts of the body. They are to be completely alone and no food or drink must pass their lips. On the eighth day rejuvenation begins. ' 

Draco swallowed hard. 

' So, he can never be defeated? If he is completely immortal?' he asked softly.

A heavy silence filled the room. 

'There are ways,' Dumbledore said,' for immortality to be reversed or at best harboured into deference for all eternity. Voldemort may have become immortal but he is not invincible.'

'What does the curse do?' Draco looked worriedly at Harry's comatose form. 'What does it mean?' 

 Lupin was taking an awfully long time getting to the point. 

Professor Snape ran his hand over his mouth and turned on his heel, standing rigidly against the wall. Lupin's voice broke and then he tried again and cleared his throat for the second time.

'Minerva spoke with Ron and Hermione. They left Harry just before three thirty. The others say that Harry vanished quite soon afterwards.'

'I saw them,' Draco said,' Granger and Weasley, about four o'clock coming back to school. I looked at the time. And when I got to Hogsmeade it was _nearly_ four thirty. I must have found Harry about four thirty.'

Lupin glanced at Dumbeldore,' so Harry was with him for an hour.'

Dumbledore dropped his head slightly.

'He was tortured for an hour?' Draco grasped Harry's hand tighter. He could not even begin to imagine the anguish that Harry had suffered at that monster's hand. An hour?

'I am not sure of how he managed to lure Harry out of the pub. I don't think we'll know that till Harry is able to tell us himself. But, yes, it would take about that long to execute the curse. The sword needs to be driven in and ending with the victim impaled upon it. Numerous incantations are said to seal the curse.'

'Details Lupin, if you would,' Professor Snape bit out.

Lupin ignored the potion master's agitated behaviour and carried on speaking.

'The idea is that the curser first chooses a victim and will then forge a sword himself. It is a laborious and complicated task at best and the sword must be forged and tempered with the curser's own blood.  The next step is to execute the curse. 

Once the curse is placed, no matter where the curser is or how far the victim is from them, the curse can be activated at any time the curser wishes. They need only utter a small incantation and it will force the victim, wherever they may be, whatever they might be doing – to bring up blood from their mouth. The curser has the power to control the intensity of the flow. If they say the incantation once then the victim will only vomit a trickle, if they continue saying it then there will be more blood loss. It could go on for days, weeks or even a year. It is at the curser's wish. The loss of blood drains magic from the victim and makes them weaken over time, killing them slowly. Nothing can be done to stop the blood flow.  

Once Harry wakes up, the curse will be fully activated. The trickles of blood from his mouth show that the curse is already taking place. Voldemort will play with him and weaken him bit by bit, to show that he is in control, and we will be forced to watch Harry get weaker.'

Draco listened horrified. He could never have imagined anything so barbaric.

'As I said,' Lupin continued,' there have been no survivors of the curse.' He stopped short and then looked at Professor Snape. 'But I believe that we can come up with an antidote and that is why I asked you to be here Severus. '

Professor Snape moved away from the wall awkwardly.

'You are the best potions brewer I know. Albus and I both think so,' Lupin stated sincerely.

Dumbledore nodded,' you are Severus.'

Professor Snape did not look pleased in the least at the given compliments. 

'I have many Dark Art books and Hogwarts has an impressive number of volumes on potion brewing. You have many yourself. Between you and I and other Healers – I believe we can come up with a cure.'

He turned pleading eyes towards Professor Snape and Dumbledore stood up. His height looking impressive and his face grave.

'You will help Severus?'

Professor Snape hesitated for a second and then gave a swift nod.

' I will do what I can but…'

' I have faith in you Severus.'

Lupin then moved closer towards Harry and Draco thought he was going to start crying, but he didn't. Instead he balled his fists up and said,' we have to come up with a cure, we have to. He is too young and it isn't…' his voice then shattered.  He shook his head,' we have to,' he whispered.

Dumbledore came up behind him and squeezed his shoulder,' I believe you are correct about the curse Remus. And we will all do what we can, you can be certain of that.'

Lupin nodded and Dumbledore turned towards Draco.

'Mr Malfoy I will think it wise that you let Professor Snape take you back to school soon.'

' I don't want to,' Draco started to say. 'I want to stay here with him. When he wakes up. I...'

'We do not know of when he will wake and there is nothing that you can do for him right now,' his headmaster said firmly. 'It will be better for you to keep up your own strength and return to school. We will let you know of any changes.'

'Draco, it will be for the best,' came the potions masters' voice.

_For the best?_ Where had he heard that before? He thought ruefully. 

'Again, your utmost discretion is required Mr Malfoy,' Dumbledore said as he walked towards the door. 'What you have heard in this room cannot go any further, do you understand?' his blue eyes bored into Draco's face. 

Draco nodded,' of course sir.'

Dumbledore seemed satisfied and inclined his head curtly.

'I will see you shortly Remus. Severus, I will see you back at Hogwarts.' 

He then took a last look at Harry before leaving the room.

Lupin dragged a second chair from the wall and sat by the bed opposite Draco. An awkward silence fell in the room and Draco let out a deep breath. Professor Snape walked over to him. 

' I will be back soon,' he said and then he too took his exit.

Draco looked past Harry and at Lupin's frail figure. The man had always looked bedraggled, but now he was even more worse for wear. He looked much older than his years. His hair was peppered with grey and frankly he resembled a tramp in Draco's eyes. And he was a werewolf, a beast…  

The uneasy silence further filled the void in the room. Draco wished Lupin would leave and was quite sure that Lupin was probably feeling the same way. But Draco did not want to _leave so the awkward silence would just have to make do._

After a few minutes Lupin glanced at Draco. 

'You and uhhh Harry are friends?' he asked, obviously uncomfortable with the subject matter but trying to make conversation nonetheless.

Friends? Draco licked his lips. He and Harry were not friends. They had never been friends. Anything but friends in fact. They weren't lovers exactly…. They were….. Draco chewed the inside of his cheek. He didn't know what they were and didn't care much for defining it either. He loved Harry. That was about it. For now.

'Well er...'

'I heard you correctly before?'  Lupin shot Draco a penetrating look.

Draco instantly knew what Lupin was referring to and nodded,' yes.'

Lupin studied Draco a moment longer and then looked away.

There was silence again and Draco sat quietly and Lupin's eyes glazed over as if he were lost deep in thought.

They had probably sat in complete silence for half an hour when Lupin pushed his chair back and stifled a sigh. He stood up and caught Draco's eye before he went towards the door and left the room.

Draco expelled a long breath and sat a little easier in his chair. He was alone again with Harry. A few minutes later a Healer came in and ran her wand over Harry's bed. She brightened the lights and scribbled something with her quill on the parchment she was carrying. Draco watched her movements and she smiled at Draco before she left the room. At least that was encouraging. Harry's condition had not worsened. 

Draco dipped his finger into the glass of water again and wet Harry's lips. He then leaned forward and stroked Harry's left cheek as he pressed his lips against Harry's chin. He closed his eyes and could feel a headache start at the top of his head and push behind his eyes.

After a while he lifted his head up and moved back. He picked up Harry's right hand and kissed the back of it. The Healer had forgotten to dim the lights and the glare was hurting his eyes. He looked at Harry's hand in his. Harry had a tiny, tiny beauty spot on his thumb. His eyes drifted down over Harry's hand when something suddenly caught his eye. He blinked and inspected Harry's hand more closely. He could have sworn he had seen faint white marks just now…

He tilted Harry's hand this way and that, wondering if he had just imagined the dull white lines. He concentrated on the skin that stretched out beneath the knuckles and could make out a white skewed line. Now that he had found it, he followed its tail across the skin.

There were more of them, they looked like words… he kept his eye on them in case he lost sight of them again. 

_I must not_

_tell lies_

I must not tell lies? Draco blinked and cleared his vision to make sure he was not just imagining those words cut upon Harry's hand. No they were still there…what on earth had possessed Harry to scratch that on his hand? Why would he do that? 

Draco lightly ran a finger over the words. If he looked at the back of Harry's hand as a whole, it looked like it normally did, unblemished. The scarred tissue had faded with time and was only visible in bright light. The words only seemed to come alive for the trained eye. 

He couldn't believe he had never noticed that before either. He had held Harry's hand countless of times. He reached over Harry and lifted his left hand and examined it closely for a moment. No, the words were just on the right hand. 

God, he had been blind to so many things. There was so much about Harry he didn't know. He slumped back in the chair and sighed. 

He stared tiredly at Harry's face. It was Sunday morning and it was only on Friday that he had been holding Harry in his arms and kissing him. It felt like months ago, yet it had been less than forty-eight hours.

As he gazed at Harry's closed lids, he recalled the vivid green of his eyes that were shuttered underneath now. The way Harry had smiled when he had come into the room on Friday afternoon.

_'Hello stranger,' _he had said turning around.

_'Sending notes are we?' _and there was that smile.

He had been right there in his arms. Talking, smiling and they had been kissing. Harry had been safe and well and…

Draco felt the swell of grief rise inside of him. He wished for this to end, the horror to vanish, for time to just move forward and Harry to get better. 

He felt his tears well up in his eyes yet again. They filled to the brim blurring his vision, before spilling over slowly. He closed his eyes tight and took a deep breath. He hadn't cried like this ever. Never. Ever. The pain felt so raw and he was so scared of losing Harry he could hardly stand it. The mere thought of Harry not opening his eyes filled him with profound heartache.

For the first time in his life he realised just how fragile life was. That Harry quite possibly could have died. He could have died whilst Draco had been out of the room.  It could have happened. Just like that. All your life depended on was a few vital organs and everything you were could be no more in a matter of seconds, minutes. Life was too fragile. And it was too frightening to comprehend. 

The door opened quietly again.

'Draco, it is time to go,' Professor Snape said. 

Draco lifted his head reluctantly. He didn't want to leave at all.

'What if he wakes and no one is here?'

'That will not happen Draco. Potter will have many more visitors- he will not be left alone. Come on Draco please gather your things. I have your cloak and your wand.'

His professor stood framed by the door and waited for Draco to stand up. 

'Okay I am up.' 

Professor Snape gave him a _look and then walked back out of the room. Draco looked down at Harry and felt the tears rise again. He didn't feel right leaving him like this… he stroked Harry's forehead gently and then bent down and kissed his cheek softly. _

'I'll see you soon. You're going to get better. I love you.'  

'Draco…' Professor Snape whispered loudly as he opened the door a fraction.

Draco felt his anger flare up,' all right I'm coming,' he snapped. He picked up his clothes from the floor and straightened up. He walked out glumly with his head down.

'Here put your things in this,' his teacher said as he pushed a bag into Draco's hands. Draco noticed that Professor Snape was not wearing Wizarding robes. He was wearing Muggle clothes. He looked strange. 

'We have to go out of the Muggle exit and portkey from around the corner.'

Draco nodded and walked by his side. Hospitals had the strangest affect on people, Draco thought. After spending such a concentrated amount of time in a hospital, you really felt as if you are cut off from the rest of the world. As if you were in some parallel universe that wasn't shared by Muggles. Something about the endless maze of white corridors made the building feel as if it were in another dimension. He couldn't help thinking this as he walked out of the door and found himself outside an empty, decrepit Muggle shop. 

'Come along,' Professor Snape said and walked quickly ahead. His sallow face was pinched in distaste as his eyes flickered across the Muggle street. Draco got the feeling that his teacher was not at all fond of Muggle London. He walked hurriedly behind him towards a small alley. 

Professor Snape looked around and then held out a long piece of blank parchment and muttered, '_Portus,_' whilst tapping the parchment with his wand. The parchment glowed blue and shook slightly for a moment before lying still in his professor's hand. 

'Ready?' he asked Draco.

'Yeah,' he replied and took a hold of one end of the parchment. He felt a slight sensation in his navel and was tugged off of his feet swirling dizzily and then landing shakily seconds later.

They were in Hogsmeade.

'There should be a carriage waiting for us up ahead near the station,' Professor Snape said, his face stiff in the cold morning air. 'This way.'

On approaching the station, Draco could see the carriage waiting for them. 

Professor Snape opened the door and Draco climbed in first. Once the potions master was seated, he closed the door sharply and the carriage began to move.

Draco rested his head against the cool glass of the window and stared dully at the slow moving scenery.

'All the people who saw you in the alley and hospital have agreed to not speak of your presence at the scene,' Professor Snape informed Draco, breaking the silence.

Draco shrugged, he really didn't care.

'Draco, it is crucial that you do not disclose any information do you understand? No one can know where you have been.'

'Fine, whatever,' Draco said indifferently. His heart was aching and all he wanted was to be by Harry's side again.

' You will tell your fellow house mates that you were visiting with family last night.'

Draco again shrugged noncommittally. 

They sat in silence and then Draco glanced at his teacher. Professor Snape was also looking out of the window. His face hard and his thin lips pressed into an even thinner line.

Draco suddenly felt his stomach twist and spasm as if he were starving or were going to be violently sick. _Oh my God, of course….. Professor Snape was a Death Eater, an undercover Death Eater yes, but a Death Eater nonetheless. He felt nauseous._

' Are you actually going to help him?' he said out aloud.

'Pardon?' his teacher turned his eyes on him with an impassive look. 

'Harry?' Draco ground out,' are you actually going to _help him? You're going to find a cure with Lupin? I mean really?' his breath seemed to have got stuck in his throat and he swallowed to get some moisture back into his mouth. _

'What are you talking about Draco?' Professor Snape turned his attention back to the window.

'You work for him don't you?' Draco spat out abruptly. 'The 'Dark Lord'?' he said in a sharp tone. 

His tone was accusatory, which was rather unfair of him, as he had always known this. But only now had he realised what that actually meant. What that might mean for Harry and he couldn't let anything else harm Harry. He wouldn't.

Professor Snape sighed as if he really could not be bothered to be having this conversation but was going to, as perhaps that would be the only way to shut Draco up. 

He looked at Draco carefully, as if assessing how much information he was about to divulge before he opened his mouth.

'The only reason I am telling you this is so you do not go into another bout of hysteria and add to your already, obviously, troubled mind.'  

Draco stared hard at him and Professor Snape looked him in the eye, his face grim. 

'There is only one person I work for Draco. Only one person that I serve and that is Albus Dumbledore.'

Draco blinked and his breath escaped his lungs entirely for a moment. Professor Snape leaned back into his seat again and resumed to look out of the window, one hand on his chin.

Draco carefully digested the information in his stunned mind and found himself stumbling. He shook his head, ' but… I thought you…'

The potions master did not look at him and said nothing.

'But my father thinks that you… He doesn't know does he? That you don't…' His thoughts ran haphazardly in his head. 'You're a spy? For Dumbledore?'

'A spy?' the teacher sounded amused, as his eyes swept over Draco's face. He raised his brows,' well I would not exactly say I was a ''spy'' but I do work solely for Dumbledore yes. ' He then hunched forward looking very serious,' Draco, you cannot repeat this, do you understand? I am trusting you.'

Draco nodded tiredly and rested his head back on the seat.

'Will you be sure to tell me if you get any news on Harry?'

Professor Snape nodded,' yes I will.' 

'And,' Draco continued, his eyes burning brightly.' Will you do what you can to help him get better? Please? Will you do all you can?'

The silence fell in between them again and then his professor looked at him briefly,' yes,' he almost whispered it. And then, ' what have you got yourself involved in Draco.' 

Not exactly a question, more of a defeated sounding statement. 

'Everyone should still be in their beds so you should go and get some rest,' his teacher murmured.

'Do they know? In school about what happened?' Draco asked.

'The students who were in Hogsmeade at the time were told to go back immediately to school and nothing more has been said yet. Though I am sure the news has spread even though precautions were taken. Professor Dumbeldore will address the school later this morning.'

The carriage pulled up in front of the stone steps and Draco climbed out. Professor Snape looked straight ahead of him as he got out of the carriage. He muttered something under his breath and looked back for a moment and then proceeded to climb the steps. Draco went up after him.

They silently went down into the Dungeons.

'Get some rest Draco and please remember what I said.'

'Yes sir.'

He nodded swiftly and left Draco in the corridor alone.

Draco made his way towards the common room. Everything felt so strange. So surreal. Harry was in hospital and he was back at school. How was he going to pretend that he didn't care? That he wasn't anxiously waiting for Harry to wake up? He swallowed hard and hoped that he did not see a single soul as he made his way to his room.

Vincent and Greg were sound asleep and snoring when he reached the bedroom and Draco was thankful. He was not prepared to answer any questions they would have for him right now. 

He caught sight of himself in the mirror above the cabinet, just like he had on Friday. He stepped closer to the mirror and touched the glass faintly with his fingers. He looked older if that was possible. _Was it possible to age overnight? He looked haunted and shaken as if someone had shaken him so hard his teeth had rattled._

He suddenly was gripped by the strangest thought. Was it possible to have a singular experience that nudged you from childhood into adulthood? A solitary event that finally pushed you over the fine line… the slow transition of growing up, to have finally grown up.

_'I'm not a child. I'm seventeen.'_

Draco hadn't appreciated the world he had lived in when he was a child. He had taken the love and comfort of his parents for granted. He had always assumed that his parents could make any problem better; that they could solve anything, that they would protect him from everything. 

And then the bubble had started to show cracks. 

His father had been taken away. But Draco had held onto the firm belief that his father had gone to prison for a cause that he had believed in. His father was standing up for the purebloods of the Wizarding world that wanted to claim back what they had lost. He needed to believe that. That his father had been taken away from him for a _reason_. A good reason. And he had clung to his mother, even though she remained bitter and angry at his father's actions. But still she was his mother. She would protect him and sort out _everything_.

And then he had Harry.

He had held onto Harry. Harry had become everything.

And so he had his beliefs and Harry all mixed up in one convoluted bowl of thoughts and feelings and contradicting emotions. 

And now he had nothing.

No beliefs and no Harry here with him. 

His father had been taken away for nothing and the same nothing had tried to take away Harry. 

And whom could Draco cling onto now? His mother? He couldn't tell her. He couldn't talk to her about this. He couldn't jeopardise her safety nor Harry's by saying anything. Professor Snape knowing did bring him some small comfort. He knew that the professor cared for him and would help Harry. And yes Dumbledore knew, but there wasn't any _personal comfort in those two people knowing. _

And for the first time Draco felt alone. 

Completely and utterly alone. 

And the world had become a scarier place in which to live. 

As he climbed into bed, Draco clung onto the memory of Harry's smile and his love for Harry as he forced his eyes to remain shut.

TBC..

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NOTE: Info on Grimoires is from the monstrous website. Immortality potion info is from these funky books my mum got me when I was twelve. Knew all that reading would come in use one day! I took the liberty to change the name of the potion though and miss out some details. The actual curse was concocted in my own twisted little head. Any similarity to anyone else's curse in any other story is completely and utterly pure coincidence. smile

Thanks to: Liliku, Usually Immaculate Aristocrat, Sylvia Sylverton, aliba, Lrigelbbub, Thuban, JoKeR -  For their reviews on **The Chariot.**

And thanks to: NayNymic, Chyna16, humdrumlife, Brenna8, Rarity88, mr.hyde, ruella, Kahli, care, lorienspectrum, Malfoy Snogger, Lully, Shui-Wing0, Sapphrine, Faby, slashstruck, Godlovesme, kurai-princess, Hayley, Sylvia Sylverton, Mr Agree'er, Sarah, eclecticity, Kathryn, Jolene, Moxy, Lucy, SlytherinSexGoddess, Desertrain, Luca, Katherine, chow_mein07, LunaLurvely, LMG, Bad-Azz-Slytherin + Chaos, Cruella-de-ville, beezy, Asia Blue, Shinny, Lucy Peraly, wingedlover27, jean , Skylar Felton, azreial9621, Tara-LuvsSlytherins, Nyx, Lrigelbbub, spookyzimluver, Hisako, Cora, HanLeia1, Alicia, althydia6666, Needle in the Hay, Kelly, JoKeR, LadyFortune - For reviewing **The Hermit.**                    


	4. Dealing With Fates Hand i

Dis claimer: Miss Rowling is a genius who gets to tuck in her characters at night. I just wanna give them some life whilst she is busy writing. Did I mention she owns ALL the rights to the characters SHE created? :o)

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**Warning: It is STILL SUNDAY people. Draco is at school and he is STILL angsting. **Will I give him a breather from all the _angst_? Heehee.

I'm not sure if I am trying your patience here but it would be much appreciated if you would carrying on reading the story. But duh! If you don't want to then that is fine also. Your choice as ever.

_I do realise that I am taking this story very slowly. But I felt like showing the immediate weekend through Draco's pov after the attack. In the next two chapters the time will pass quicker. I know I am crawling and if you find crawling distasteful then oh well. _

This chapter was originally the beginning piece of a much larger mammoth _chapter_ – but after The Chariot mayhem – I learnt my lesson well – can you tell? ( I rhymed :o) ) 

But anyway, I thought I should update cos I didn't want to leave it too long as I cleaned up the rest of the dismembered parts of the so called 'chapter' So I hope you kinda enjoy reading. shrugsI liked writing it anyway.

_I know that hardly anyone reads these notes but I do like talking a lot so I will continue to ramble on now and again. :o)_

**_*Coffeecat_**_*_ corrected all the flaws that littered this chapter. Thank you my dear. 

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**Chapter Four – Dealing with Fates Hand (i)**

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Draco was perched on the window ledge in their room waiting for Harry. It was early evening and Harry had just finished Quidditch practise. Draco had seen him through the window making his way out of the changing rooms. He smiled to himself as he saw Harry shout out something to Weasel and then run towards the castle. He knew that, within a few minutes, Harry would come bursting through the door. To him. 

He stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles first and then his arms loosely across his chest. His bottom was resting on the small ledge and he wore a smile as he could feel Harry's presence grow nearer on the other side of the door.

He was coming closer.

_Another few minutes._

_Closer._

_The door burst open._

_Green eyes sparkled behind the glinting glasses and black robes flapped around him._

_'Hey,' Harry said breathlessly as he closed the door. A gust of wind accompanied his entrance._

_Draco, still perched casually by the window, looked at him with one raised brow. _

_'Hey,' he drawled._

_Harry came closer with a small smile decorating his lips. He licked them as he approached Draco. They both stared at each other as Harry closed the distance between them. Draco uncrossed his ankles but remained sitting, his arms still folded in front of his chest. He could feel the cold air that was still emanating from Harry. He took in the red cheeks and the small pink nose. Harry needed to be kissed, obviously._

_They engaged in a mini battle of gazes. They often did that. Stare at each other without saying a word. Draco could feel the heat rise in him and his fingers and lips itch to be connected to Harry's skin._

_A minute passed._

_Every second filled with anticipation and longing._

_And then he could no longer stand it and he relaxed his arms and held them out, immediately feeling Harry rush in towards his embrace. He felt his heart gallop around in his chest happily and tried not to think about the rush of affection that burst through him as he felt Harry hug him tightly. Harry's cold hair tickling his neck, his warm breath tingling his skin, Harry's arms around his waist._

_'Have you been waiting long?'_

_Draco shook his head._

_'Not really. I saw you practising through the window. I knew what time you would come up.'_

_Harry moved his head back and met Draco's eyes._

_'You watched me practise?'_

_'Yeah,' Draco answered back shortly._

_Harry raised both his brows._

_' I watch you sometimes, when I'm waiting for you.'_

_A wide smile tugged Harry's lips upwards._

_' I watch you too sometimes – when I can,' he told Draco._

_Draco felt a pleasant current zoom through his veins. Harry watched him practise. He watched him. _

_He then felt warm lips press against his own and he tightened his arms around Harry. He opened his mouth further and felt Harry do the same. They had become so good at this, their lips so in tune with one another. Their mouths opened and closed and kissed in unison, like a well-practised dance. Meeting together perfectly in time. Making out with Harry was heaven in itself. They could win an award for kissing. _

_An Order of Merlin for kissing. First Class._

_Draco's tongue sought out its partner, meeting it quickly as Harry poked his tongue out also. Lapping at each other's lips, he felt Harry move slightly out of his arms and straighten out. He tugged at Draco's robes as he pulled him up onto his feet. Their kiss remained unbroken as they moved towards the couch. Lowering themselves whilst trying not to break their joined lips and contain their laughter, they arranged their limbs onto the soft cushions. Draco lying on his back with Harry's body blanketing him. He could feel Harry's smile through their kisses and felt his own smile reflecting back._

_Kissing. Kisses. Kiss. K.I.S.S._

_Harry's soft lips then slipped down his chin and then his neck, his own hands running a path up and down Harry's back. He was covered in softness and feeling ever so warm. Harry trailed his fingers up Draco's chest as they kissed each other slowly and gently again and again._

_Finally Harry lifted his mouth away and smiled down at Draco. When Harry smiled, his whole face lit up and Draco pursed his lips together to stop himself from saying anything that could be perceived as 'corny' – because the salacious words were already forming in his mind. But he could not and would not speak them._

_They were silent as Draco removed Harry's glasses and placed them on the armrest behind his head. He skimmed his fingers across Harry's face and stopped to stroke Harry's nose for a while. Harry chuckled and ran his index finger over Draco's brow and brush past Draco's eyelashes. _

_Draco then lifted his head and pressed a kiss on Harry's forehead. He watched Harry sigh and then sink his head down onto his chest. They both shifted on the couch till they found another comfortable position to lie in, all the while the quiet hush enveloping them comfortingly._

_He could stay like this for ages, Draco thought. Not having to move at all. Just like this. Stay. _

_'Are you tired?' he murmured and Harry gave his neck a small kiss before replying with a,' mmmm.'_

_' Weasel pushing you to your limits huh? Thought you had more stamina?' he teased._

_'I'll show you stamina one day,' Harry said with a laugh._

_He looked forward to it…….someday…….perhaps……_

_His brows creased and he banished the thoughts quickly from his mind._

_They lay like that for a while and sure enough Harry was beginning to doze. Draco shuffled lower, manoeuvring Harry gently so that their faces were parallel to one another. Harry's eyes were closed and he was definitely drifting. He moved his hand so that his palm lay over Harry's ear and his fingers sifted through the cool black strands. His smile broke his mouth shape once more and he kissed Harry's lips. Harry sighed again._

_He gave him another kiss and Harry,'mmmmed.'_

_Then Draco began to kiss him more intensely and his kisses nudged Harry fully awake. The green eyes opened with a naughty smile._

_And Harry was awake._

_Awake…_

And Draco slowly awoke with a smile upon his face. Harry was awake. They were in their room and they were kissing…weren't they?

Weren't they?

His eyes suddenly snapped fully open. 

What?

He blinked blankly for a second and then the horror of the past twenty-four hours rushed up at him all at once.

_Harry. _

He'd been dreaming…It was just a bloody dream. He remembered that day so clearly…. And now it was just a dream.

Harry wasn't here at all.

It had been a fucking, shitty, bloody, crappy dream. 

_This_ is what he was reduced to? Reliving their memories in his dreams? He rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed. No, he thought adamantly. They were going to make many more memories together. They would. They had to. They were not in the past – they would have a present and a future. They would. He would see to that.

He looked at the time. It was Sunday. It was midday. He had slept for too long. He had to get news on Harry right away. 

He hurriedly tore out of his curtains. He vaguely saw Vincent and Greg standing in the room with open-mouthed expressions, as he rushed out of the door.

He kept his eyes focused towards the exit as he entered the common room. He didn't look around or notice a single person as he approached the wall speedily and slipped out into the corridor in search of Professor Snape. He had been asleep for almost six hours. A lot could happen in that time. He briskly strode to the potion master's office.

'Sir?' he said aloud, not bothering to knock as he opened the door and went inside.

'Draco,' came a curt reply.

Draco closed the door behind him. 

'How's Harry? Has there been any change?' 

He knew that if Harry woke up, then it would implement the curse and set it on its way, but honestly he would rather Harry was awake…

'Have you found out anything more?'

His professor gave him a displeased look as he set down a number of potions he had been holding in his arms.

'No, Draco, there has been no change.'

'Any more information then?' 

Draco swallowed hard and came near to the table that Professor Snape was now standing behind.

'Draco,' Professor Snape said in an infuriated tone and looked up from examining the various bottles. 

' I told you I would _tell you if there was any further news. Seeing as I haven't done so, indicates quite clearly that there has been NO change or any further news on Potter.' His dark eyes looked coldly at Draco. ' If you are going to insist on darkening my door every hour of the day, I will __not take to it kindly. Control your hysterical urges and trust my judgement on when I choose to inform you and when I do not.  I gave you my word that I would tell you, and I will. Either you believe it or you don't and, if you do not, don't waste my time further. It is your decision. Do we understand one another?'_

Draco glared at him as best as he could and then sighed. 

'Yes,' he said brusquely,' fine, all right then. I will control my so-called _hysterical urges, but it is only because…' _

His teacher continued to glare at him menacingly and Draco felt that this was not the time to spill his heart out to the man. He snapped his mouth shut and Professor Snape inclined his head slightly before turning away and continuing on with his examinations.

Draco stood awkwardly for a moment.

'Are you looking for some potions? For Harry?' He couldn't help but ask.' Is there anything I can do to help?'

'No you can _not help me with my given task, but you __can help me by getting out of here and behaving like a sixth year Slytherin Prefect that you are. Forget about circumstances that are beyond your control. I would also caution you to keep your head down and not get involved in anything that will bring disastrous repercussions on yourself.'_

'You mean about people finding out about Harry and I?' he said.

'Act as you may but I have warned you.'

'I'm not acting!' Draco bristled,' I'm worried sick about him and I feel anxious and horrified and scared… I want to know that he will be ok, that he will fight this and get better.'

Professor Snape's face tightened at Draco's emotional outburst and he glowered grimly at him. 'You would do well to keep yourself in check, Draco. There is only so much impertinence that I will take from you. Now leave, I have work to do.'

He turned his back to Draco and started making notes. Draco smothered an irritated sigh and then left the room. It wasn't that he didn't trust his professor per se; it was just that it was ever so frustrating being here and not being able to actually _do anything constructive._

He walked back to the common room and realised that he had run out in his sleep-wrinkled clothes and socked feet. No wonder Professor Snape had had such a disapproving look upon his face. He met curious eyes as people took in his appearance. He gave a tight smile and walked quickly into his room.

'Draco?' Vincent immediately pounced on him as he set foot in the room. 'Where did you run off to?'

'Uhhh,' Draco saw Greg's questioning look and swallowed.' I umm had to tell Professor Snape something.' He went over to his wardrobe and tried to look casual.

' We saw you in the pub yesterday and then you disappeared, and then the teachers had us all come back to school and we couldn't find you. When we woke up you were in bed. Where were you last night? Why didn't you tell us that you were going somewhere?'

Draco shrugged indifferently,' mmm yeah, well uh I came looking for you in the pub to tell you that my mum had owled and asked me to come home for the night. I couldn't find you so I left. It was packed in the pub so…. I just went.' He said it nonchalantly.

'I didn't know you could do that?' Greg said in a wondering voice.

'Yeah you can, you just need your parents permission.'

'Oh,' Greg nodded.

'You must have heard about what happened to Potter right?' Vincent said with relish as if the words were particularly tasty in his mouth. 

Draco fought to keep his expression dispassionate.' Yeah I did,' he shrugged again and picked out some clothes from his cupboard.

'Well?' Greg said with bug eyes,' what do you think? The Dark Lord is going to take over soon. It's starting.'

Draco felt a sickening plunge in his stomach. He turned towards his bed and fiddled with his clothes.' Let's not get hasty. He has a long way to go before he….' He couldn't finish the rest of the sentence. 

'Yeah but…'

' I don't know, Greg,' Draco turned around and snapped.' All I know is that my dad's still in prison.' 

There, that ought to keep them quiet. He looked at Vincent who quietly agreed with a nod.

Greg nodded as well.' Yeah. But not for long I bet. I bet….'

Draco silenced him with a look.' Let's just see shall we? I don't want to get too ahead of myself. Vuh…the 'Dark Lord's' plans have been foiled before. I'd rather not get too caught up in it all you know… Look, I have to change all right?'

He shoved his feet into his shoes as they nodded indistinctly at him. He walked quickly from the room with his toiletries and clothes and into the corridor. _Shit, he frowned. __This was how it was going to be… he could just see it. _

Many of the Slytherin's would be revelling in Harry's attack. They were under the misguided impression that 'their Dark Lord' was some awe-inspiring powerful figure. They didn't know anything. They hadn't seen him. Yet they were blindly following something they did not fully understand. Like sheep following one another. He had done that. For so long. Just gone along with what he had been born into, of what had been expected of him. It had taken something of such hideous proportions for him to open his eyes and make him see what the truth really was.

He sighed as he neared the bathroom. His mind was brewing with a thousand thoughts in his head. Logically he knew that it would be better for him to keep his relationship with Harry under cover – for now. He didn't want any ramifications on Harry while he was still so weak. 

He heard voices coming from inside the toilets and decided to use the Prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor instead. Most probably it would be free now at lunchtime. He could take a swim and unwind a little. His muscles still felt sore and he hoped that if he tired himself out, he would be able to sleep reasonably well tonight. Also, most importantly, he would be by himself in the bathroom. 

He said the password and the door opened. He quickly shed his clothes, slipped into the warm water and turned on the various bath taps. He rested against the side for a moment, watching the taps spout out scented froth. In his mind, he could not stop picturing Harry's pale face. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back.

He wondered if Harry's family had come down yet. How had he not known that Black was dead? His Professor was a 'spy' for Dumbledore. Harry's hand. The curse.

He ducked his head under water and swam a few lengths. The water swirled and pressed around him, stopping any further thoughts.

Fifteen minutes later he leant against the side again getting his breath back. Finally he hoisted himself up on the edge and reached for his wand.

'_Accio towel,' and his towel came zooming into his hands from across the giant tub. He wrapped it around himself and padded over to his clothes. After performing a quick drying spell, he began to dress._

'Helloooo,' came a soft voice behind him.

He turned around and looked at the owner of the voice. It was a ghost, a girl with limp hair and glasses. Draco did not answer her and tucked in his shirt and reached for his tie.

'I said hello,' she persisted as she floated over the water in the tub.

'So what?' Draco said.

'Do you know who I am?'

'Moaning Myrtle,' he answered shortly and pulled his jumper down over his head.

'Moaning Myrtle? That wasn't on my birth certificate. It's not _Moaning_ Myrtle. Myrtle is my _first_ name you know.'

'Whatever,' Draco replied and pushed his arms through his robes. 

He picked up his previous set of wrinkled clothes and then eyed her suspiciously.' Have you been here all this time? As in watching me bathe?'

'No,' she answered and floated lazily up to the ceiling.

'Yeah right,' he shook his head. 

'You don't believe me,' she said mournfully swooping down near him.' It's because I'm a ghost. People don't believe me because I'm a ghost.'

He didn't think that was the case at all; people didn't believe her because she lied.

'Are you finished?' she asked drifting in front of him.

'Looks like it,' he said and walked purposely through her, feeling an all-consuming chill as he did so. His teeth set on edge as he shook off the sudden freeze.

'Oh,' she let out a cry,' that wasn't very nice.'

'Do you mind?' he said gruffly. 'I came here to be alone.'

'You don't want to be alone,' she looked at him thoughtfully.' Nobody does, not really.' 

And with that she vanished through the wall, right through the mermaid's picture that hung there. The mermaid's face grimaced slightly but she quickly replaced her fixed smile once again.

No, he didn't want to be alone. He wanted to be with Harry and if he couldn't be, then he _would be alone._

He strode out of the bathroom and slowly made his way back down, immersed in his own thoughts.

The common room was empty. Everyone had gone to lunch. He went into his room and collapsed on his bed. He didn't want to eat, but he did want to see if Dumbledore was back yet.

Sighing inwardly he walked out of the Slytherin house and towards the Great Hall. As soon as he entered, he was struck by the unusual sight of the Gryffindor table that was half empty.  There was a lot of hushed conversation in the large room and he felt several eyes on him as he made his way to the table.

'Would you look at them?' Blaise sniffed indignantly as Draco sat down. 'Since news got around of Potter's attack, I've counted eighteen murderous glares towards me since this morning.'

Draco tucked in his chair and reached for the bread rolls. 

'Someone from Ravenclaw went for Gower Bevan in the first year. The little brown haired boy who asked you if he could do a spell on his frog to make it stop breathing?'

'Yeah I know which one,' Draco said and buttered his roll as he casually scanned the staff table. Dumbledore wasn't there and neither was Professor Snape. Mcgonagall looked very pale and drawn as she sat talking with Sprout. Everyone was talking. 

_About Harry._

'What did your mother say about it?'

'Huh?' Draco said trying to evade the question.

'About the attack?'

Draco shrugged,' nothing really.'

'We're going to have to be careful you know. Pansy has already had to calm down some second year who thinks it's time for his calling to join the Death Eaters.'

He looked at the Gryffindor table again. None of Harry's friends were there. In fact, the entire sixth year was absent from the table. Owls were swooping in and out of the hall and there was a thick feeling of general unrest and gloom in the air. 

'All the Hogsmeade trips have been cancelled for the rest of the year and we're not allowed out of the grounds. No class trips into the Forbidden Forest and no one is allowed outdoors after five. Dumbledore did a speech this morning. You missed all the drama.'

Drama? Draco felt sick. He watched his bread roll wretchedly. He had buttered it too thickly and now looked at the yellow, congealing spread. He swallowed hard and bit off the end of his roll. It still tasted dry and horrible and God he didn't want to be here.

'Pansy is looking for you…'

'Mmm,' Draco mumbled.

'You okay?'

'Just tired.' 

He got up and Blaise looked up at him.

' You're finished? Are you not feeling well? You haven't been eating well at all …'

He glanced at her, thinking why was she being so observant of late? 

' I had a huge snack with my cousin at four in the morning. I just don't feel very hungry.'

She glanced at him before he quickly departed the room. He heaved out a deep breath when he reached the Entrance Hall and saw Theodore looking sulky and scuffing the ground with his shoe near the Dungeons door. 

Draco silently approached him and heard the thin boy mumble, 'I hope Potter dies.' 

On hearing those words, he felt something give way inside of him.

It happened so quickly, but all Draco knew was that he felt fire in his veins and white-hot anger flare up in his body. Within two seconds he had whipped out his wand and muttered quickened words, which sent the thin boy whizzing backwards against the wall. Draco felt his blood boiling as he clenched his fists and calmed his features. He walked over to the wall that the boy was presently _pressed against. Actually, Theodore was stuck against the wall. _Literally._ From the hair behind his head, down to the back of his heels. The boy's eyes widened as he writhed and struggled futilely against the wall._

'Draco?' He sputtered out. 'What have you done?' he asked in a frightened, breathy voice.

'Done?' Draco smirked.' What I have ''_done_'' actually has to be credited to Vincent. He is the one who taught me this particularly amusing hex. The ''sticking spell'' as it is fondly known in our inner circle.'

Theodore wriggled a little more and he looked quite pathetic as he squirmed.

'Vincent used to stick insects against walls and ceilings. He showed me how to when we were very young. I soon realised that, with a little concentration and remarkable focus, you can stick much _larger_ things against the wall than insects,' he ended softly, his eyes pinning the boy further more with his gaze.  

'Let me go!' The boy said angrily,' what's the meaning of this?'

Draco shrugged carelessly.' Well I think it is my duty as a sixth year Slytherin Prefect to watch over the house's well being. And frankly I do not think it is at all beneficial for a sixth year Slytherin to be going about spewing comments, that would look _not at all well on the Slytherin house. Why make life more difficult, Theodore? As if we aren't having enough trouble as it is? Have you been awake this morning?' _

He raised his brows a fraction, his anger resurfacing again. He wanted to snap the reedy boy's arms and legs into lots of broken fragments. And then step on them hard and crush them into powder. The powder then mixed with the litter for the animals. He could hardly contain himself, yet he was on the outside. He had to. 

'So did you think of the effect that your words may have had, had _another person from _another _house heard you?' He tapped his wand lightly on the boy's head. ' Sometimes it does pay to think ahead before you speak. Shall we agree to process thoughts before they tumble out of one's mouth Theodore?'_

Theodore looked at him mutinously. His eyes narrowing at Draco's cool and condescending expression. 

He drew in his lips stiffly before saying,' yeah ok, fine.'

'_Finite Incantatum,' and Theodore's limbs relaxed and he slid down four inches onto the floor. There was fury in his eyes as he moved away from the wall. He gave Draco a challenging glare._

'Fine,' he spat out again before he ran towards the Dungeons door and threw it open.

Draco chewed his top lip. This was not good. He had barely been awake for over an hour and already he had snapped like a twig. Of course the Slytherin's were going to say things like that. _Obviously._ He was going to have to master his emotions _well and good_ if he had any hope of keeping his sanity and his secrets to himself.

The day was already too long and he still had the rest of the afternoon to contend with. And the evening and then the next day. And the day after that... 

With a sudden new thought in his mind, he went down to the common room to the writing desk that was tucked in the corner of the room. He scribbled a quick note and headed back out and up to the West Tower. 

He was going to owl a note to his mother. He was sure by now that she had heard of the attack on Harry, though the note did not regard that topic. It was about the Easter holidays that were starting next week. Though it maybe a relief to be away from the other students, staying at school was the best place to get information on Harry's well being. It would prove more difficult for him to receive any updates on Harry whilst being at home. Dumbledore and Professor Snape were here and he could be kept informed daily on Harry's progress. Maybe even visit him again in hospital. Perhaps they would find a cure quickly. 

He raced up the numerous stairs. He definitely wanted to remain at school. He just hoped his mother would not contest his wish to stay. 

He reached the Owlery and it was only him and the multitude of owls that were perched here and there in the circular room. The harsh midday sun streamed through the glassless windows as he squinted upwards, searching for his owl. There he was. He fumbled in his pocket and drew out an owl treat. He held it out to his owl, who quickly swooped down from his resting area. As it nibbled on the treat, Draco attached the letter to his leg. 

'Home ok?' he said softly as he stroked the brown wing with white markings across it. His owl acknowledged his words and immediately took flight from the nearest window. Draco watched after him for a moment and then turned around. He spotted a beautiful snowy owl. _Hedwig_. She was tucked away in a corner on a low perch looking despondent.

'Hey, Hedwig?' he called gently. She lifted her head and peered down at him. 

'Hi,' he said. He dug out some more treats from his pocket and held them out to her.

She eyed him suspiciously but made no further movement. 

'Hedwig?' he called out again and she gazed at him, as if thinking thoughtfully and assessing his intentions. He waited patiently with his arm outstretched till it started to ache, but he held it up stiffly nonetheless. 

'Come on girl, come here…' he said softly. 'It's ok, come here. Harry won't mind.' He paused. 'Please?'

She soon ruffled her feathers and flew down to a perch near him. He walked over to her and held out the treats near to her beak. She looked at him cautiously with her amber eyes and then slowly ducked her head and pecked at them. He gently reached out and laid hesitant fingers on her feathers. It was the first time he had touched her. She didn't seem to mind so he let himself stroke her soft wing.

Suddenly he felt tears prick his eyes and he sniffed hard and stroked her some more.

'He'll be fine. He'll be back soon ok?' he said reassuring the owl and himself. 'I'll come and visit you.' 

He rubbed his eyes, annoyed at himself for the tears that gathered there so quickly. He took a deep breath,' how's that? Till Harry gets better. Ok?'

She fluffed up her feathers again and moved around on the perch, but not too far from his touch. Harry loved his owl, and he wasn't here… Draco felt himself get upset all over again. Hedwig was the closest thing he had to Harry.. He smiled bleary-eyed and cleared his throat.

'You should make friends with my owl. He is the good-looking chap with the large black feathery brows? He's quite friendly. He'd probably appreciate your company. He usually sleeps on that side,' he pointed to the upper left hand side corner. 'So when he comes back, see how it goes…'

He may have felt strange talking to an owl in this way, but it was Hedwig. She was Harry's. Anything of Harry's was dear to him. He'd been so stubborn before and now he was clawing for anything to be close to Harry. _And_ also setting up Harry's owl with his. He smiled wryly at the thought. Well they _could_ at least be friends. It might be nice for owls. They must make friends somehow.

He lightly stroked her head and gave her one last treat.

'Bye,' he said and she flew back up to her corner and tucked her head under her wing, preparing to go to sleep.

He made his way back down and soon he had left the tower behind him, and walked down the long and strangely empty corridors. He missed Harry so much. Just knowing that Harry wasn't even in the building made him feel terrible. At least when he was here, Draco took comfort that they were under the same roof, in the same surroundings. He was near. He was reachable. 

And now he wasn't. 

This great, big, huge, sodding castle with its grey walls and endless walkways and mazes and nooks and crannies – and no Harry. He couldn't look forward to seeing Harry's face when he went to eat, or bump into him accidentally on purpose. It was all crap. 

He felt the familiar whimper start up in his mind again. _Harry._ His heart hurt. How was he going to do this alone? He hated everything so much.  He should be at the fucking hospital, not traipsing around school idiotically and feeling like a nomad. He had no purpose, not really. Just biding his time till he received news on Harry. At school. 

It took him slightly longer than usual to reach the ground floor, as the stairs had decided to separate and transport him to an alternative corridor thus making his trip more time consuming but welcome. As he neared the Dungeons, his stomach seized on him once again.

He knew deep down that his nightmare had only just begun.

TBC…

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**P.S For any updates or delays; I will leave notes on my Author Profile page. Just click on my name at the top if you don't know what I mean.**

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	5. Dealing With Fates Hand ii

**Disclaimer: HP was written and is owned and possessed by Miss J.K Rowling.**

My Beater **_* Coffeecat*_**continues to read the chapters and tick and cross. Thank you for your sweetness. I use it in my tea. 

**WAIT, WAIT :o) : Hi, keep in mind that these _two _chapters were a part of the _previous _chapter.** It was so long I had to lop it off into three chunks. **Ideally FOUR, FIVE and SIX should have been read ALL in one go** – but as I had only finished the first part of the chapter – I loaded it up as an update (previously said) as I didn't want to leave it so long between updates. 

So it is still all Draco, still at school – if it's any consolation – I have made TIME PASS. At the end of six, we will be in May. 

I have an obsession with time and can't stop writing about it! As my poor Beta knows only too well. 

Read it, if you want to and think you can stand it! :o)

_These next two chapters are dedicated to __SlytherinSexGoddess for rhyming._****

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**Chapter Five – Dealing with fates hand (ii)**

(End of Chapter four)

_It took him slightly longer than usual to reach the ground floor, as the stairs had decided to separate and transport him to an alternative corridor thus making his trip more time consuming but welcome. As he neared the Dungeons, his stomach seized on him once again._

_He knew deep down that his nightmare had only just begun._

As soon as he walked through the entrance of the Slytherin house, Pansy grabbed his arm.

'Where have you been?' she was almost squealing. ' You keep disappearing! I need your _help_. Hello? You are a Prefect you know? Even though that seems to have slipped your mind recently.' She glared at him for a moment. ' You have to give me a hand with the kids. It's a madhouse in here.'

Draco surveyed his surroundings. There was a lot of high-pitched conversation floating around, lots of dirty looks and finger pointing. Yes, all right, it slightly resembled a 'mad house'.  He knew that just because _he_ was feeling miserable, life around him wouldn't stop. Unfortunately.

'Some of them are convinced that the Dark Lord,' Pansy continued and Draco fought to keep his snarl from appearing - ' is going to break into Hogwarts and recruit them, _and _the other half are just plain scared saying they don't want to die like Potter.'

'Potter isn't going to die,' Draco said in a quick thinking toneless sort of a voice.

' I know that, he never does,' Pansy said offhandedly and Draco felt like ripping her hair out.' But, really, I wish you would talk to some of them. Professor Snape is locked away in his office. He said he is only to be disturbed if there is a _great_ emergency.'

Draco puffed out his cheeks. Pansy had begun to take her Prefect duties so seriously this year. She was feeling _all_ important and responsible. Draco had never really cared for being a Prefect other than to be able to order people around and annoy the other houses with his given status. 

'What?' he asked. 'What do you want me to do?' 

She wore an exultant smile and tittered at him before adopting her Prefect face again. 

'Calm that little kid who is sinking into that armchair.' She pointed to a small boy with a dark mop of hair who was indeed sinking into the large armchair near the wall. 'He says that his mum doesn't support the Dark Lord and he is afraid he will get beat up if he doesn't join in all the celebrations that some of the kids are having.'

Celebrations? People were so sick. _Sick like you_, the little voice in his head reminded him. He remembered rejoicing a few times at the mention of Voldemort's rising. 

'Fine,' he muttered and ignored the wide smile that Pansy bestowed his retreating back.

He went over to the small boy and said hello and asked for his name. He had no idea what half of the kids in his house were called. He supposed as a Prefect he should know details like that, but he hadn't bothered with particulars such as these before. The first year boy was called Cassidy Lister and stared up at Draco with big brown eyes that looked at him unwaveringly and slightly suspicious.

It took a while to cajole the rather stoic boy into talking. After a few minutes of idle chatter, Draco suggested leaving the common room and taking a walk to do some (made-up) Prefect duties. Cassidy agreed and quickly pushed himself out of his warm indented spot in the chair and followed Draco out of the room.

Once the boy started to warm somewhat towards him, he asked a barrage of questions. Whilst talking, Draco led him into the library and asked Cassidy to help him sort out a few books in the trolley. He had no idea what he was doing, but the small boy didn't question why – so they talked and sorted out books in subject order; he just hoped Madam Pince did not notice them. Once that was done, they left the library and  Draco indicated for Cassidy to join him on a bench near the wall.

'So what happened today?' Draco asked. _Might as well cut to the chase._

'I don't know what you mean.'

'Yes you do. What were the others saying to you?'

Cassidy looked at the floor and then shrugged, swinging his foot against the base of the bench.' They said that the Dark Lord was back and had defeated Potter and was going to get rid of all of his enemies and that I had better start showing my support for him.'

Draco nodded.

'I said that actually my mum didn't support the Dark Lord.'

Feisty little fellow, Draco thought. _He has more balls than I have. He's only eleven. Shit, I am a coward._

He cleared his throat,' go on.'

'They said I had better change my tune or they'd beat me up.' The boy paused,' your dad worked for him didn't he?'

Draco nodded again.

'So you think I should support him?'

'Well I umm, think that, uh well…' _Good, Draco, really articulate_. He tried again. 'I think it is important to learn the facts of something before you start supporting it. It probably isn't very good to just follow others without really knowing what you're getting yourself into. You can get yourself into all sorts of messes and uhh…' His steam was slowly chugging to a sputter.

'He kills people,' Cassidy piped up. 'Just because I'm in Slytherin doesn't mean I want to kill people.'

'Of course it doesn't.' 

'That's what the other houses think. Stilleman got hexed by a Hufflepuff,' the boy said in wonder.

A Hufflepuff hexing? Who knew such _gentle_ creatures had it in them? What was the world coming to? He frowned in thought, he was Prefect; he should be sounding all wise and… Prefect-y. 

'Well, people make judgements and snap decisions about other people without ever getting to know them. It happens all the time. They just assume a lot and don't really know for sure but just go along with what everyone else thinks. For example, the other houses think that being in Slytherin must mean that we all support the…him, but that isn't necessarily true. People in our own house think that we all should support him… but that isn't true either. So really it takes all sorts of people to ummm…' the steam a mere wisp now. 

He sighed,' you just be yourself and believe in what you truly believe in. Don't be afraid to be different.' Cassidy was watching him intently and he mustered a small smile. 'You come to me if you need anything ok?' The small boy nodded,' and I'm going to tell the others that if they threaten you again, they'll be dealing with much more than me, they'll be dealing with Professor Snape and that won't be pretty.' He gave an evil grin, which the boy returned.

'Come on,' Draco said standing up,' lets go back down.' 

As he watched the small boy bound down the stairs he realised that this Prefect thing wasn't so bad. It felt quite nice actually – talking to the boy and giving advice in a round about way. He hadn't been that _crap _had he? Cassidy caught his eye and his big doe eyes sparkled mischievously. Draco felt reassured that he indeed had not been that crap at all.

Once they went back into the common room, Cassidy joined a friend and Draco gave him a comforting smile. He asked Pansy to point out which kids had been giving Cassidy trouble and she did. He rounded them up and then exercising his menacing glare and Prefect type, authoritative voice - told them that they were NOT to harass Cassidy or any other kids in the house. If they did, they would be reported straight away to Professor Snape. 

Draco could see the fear set in their eyes at the mention of their head of house. Satisfied that he had done a job well done, he told Pansy that he had sorted it out as best as he could. She grinned broadly at him and was about to loop her arm in his when he moved away. He had done his good deed of the day and more than anything; he wanted to be left alone now.

He gave her a forced smile before going to his room. Vincent and Greg were not there so he took advantage of the lack of disturbance and curled up in bed. He felt tired. He suddenly reached under his pillow and pulled out his jumper. He sniffed at it. Harry's smell was fading… He looked at the limp item of clothing and screwed his eyes tight and buried his face in it. 

The day was going to crawl by again, he could tell already. He cast a bleary eye to his clock. He had been awake for nearly three hours. He groaned. What the fuck was he supposed to do? If he laid around in bed all day – all he would do is think about what had happened. Then he would feel angry and sad and want to hit something or someone. Harry's image had been permanently fixed in his mind and he could visualise it every few minutes. Doing 'nothing' would only make him feel worse. He knew that. He couldn't even go and plague Professor Snape.

…

Homework. He _could_ do that. Seek refuge in the library. Stay tucked away in a corner. Feign doing homework or actually do homework. Either way, it would give him some temporary relief from wondering what the hell _to do_.

He pulled himself up and gathered his books and then ambled his way out. 

'Draco, where are you going?' 

Pansy came and stood right in front of him.  He really wanted to tell her to fuck off.

'I'm going to the library.'

'Library?' she looked at him surprised.' But...the whole school is buzzing. Everyone's talking about it, Potter and everything. No one is going to be in the _library_,' she ended incredulously 

Everyone was talking about Harry getting attacked. Yes he knew that, and that is why he needed to give himself some breathing space at regular intervals or his head would surely explode or implode. 

'Well I am. I don't really care what ''everyone'' is talking about. Wow, so Potter gets attacked. He is always getting into something or another. I don't know why everyone is getting so excited about it. ' He put on his bored face and Pansy tilted her head with a sheepish look. 

'Yeah I guess…' she murmured. He rolled his eyes in distaste. He hated it when she agreed with him for no reason. He hated that she tried to please him when he didn't want pleasing. 

'Ok, well I'm going.'

'Do you need company?' she called out after him.

'No thanks. I can manage to read and write by myself.'

With that, he quickly threw himself out into the corridor.  

He trudged up the stairs, following the path that he had walked thousands of times. He met accusing eyes from every student that he passed who wasn't in Slytherin. He knew what they were thinking. _Draco Malfoy – arch nemesis of Potter; he must be having a field day at the news of Potter being attacked._ It just showed, he thought. People really knew nothing. 

He gazed back unabashed, keeping his head up with an air of austerity as he crossed his way to the library. He knew that he would have to get used to this. Whispers like fog floated around him as he marched past.  Anyone would think that it was_ him, _who had attacked Harry and not Voldemort. But to many of the students, it was probably in the same category. After all he was the son of a _convicted_ Death Eater. 

The library was practically empty as Pansy had foretold. Draco didn't care and was glad for the solitude. He concentrated on reading and making notes and writing essays. He wasn't going to stop till he finished _all _of his homework and would just stay here till nightfall if necessary.

He very nearly did. 

It was nearing dinnertime as he finished off his last sentence. He ended with a firm full stop from his quill and leaned back with a sigh and aching shoulders.

He piled his things into his bag and stood up, his head swimming dizzily. He steadied himself by gripping the table. He was _tired_, and…. _hungry_. He hadn't eaten properly since…Thursday. He had been living on small amounts of foods since then; always too distracted to eat a substantial meal. 

Well, he thought to himself as he walked out, he would eat well tonight so he would feel more clear-headed tomorrow. Fill his stomach, get a good nights rest and face all the shit that came his way on Monday.

He didn't go back into the common room but instead went straight into the Great Hall. He noticed the missing Gryffindor's from lunch were now in their seats. Draco quickly glanced at them and walked to his table. Weasley and Granger were there. He positioned himself so he could see them from his seat. 

Vincent sat down next to him, 'where…' he began.

'Library,' Draco cut him off, getting revoltingly bored from these types of short conversations.

Vincent raised his brows. ' Why are you _studying_ so much?', he asked, looking like the whole concept of studying was alien to him.

'What would you have me doing instead?' Draco retorted rudely. 'Mess around? Talk about Potter? You take your pick.' He was feeling increasingly bad tempered and irritable.

Vincent shrugged and Draco felt Greg look at him quizzically. 

'Why are you gaping at me like a fucking fish? Idiot,' he spat out.

Greg quickly looked away,' sorry,' he mumbled.

Draco stared down at his empty plate. He hadn't snapped at Greg like that for ages. It irked him that Greg apologised so readily when it was Draco himself who had been in the wrong. He hated how Greg was such a push over. For him anyway. He had never stood up for himself when it was Draco deriding him. Neither did Vincent. It didn't feel so good anymore, having that power over them. It just made them seem lame and he was irritated at that as well.

_EAT_, his brain cried out, trying to get his attention. _You are not leaving this table till you eat every morsel on your plate._

So he filled his plate with food he thought he could handle and then began to work his way through the load.

He let his eyes roam around the hall. Dumbledore still wasn't there and neither was Professor Snape. Did he dare a visit to his potions master? He coughed slightly and drank from his goblet. No, he didn't think so. He would try and steel himself and fight the urge to hurtle into his professor's room at every given hour.

There wasn't much that he could do for the time being other than to sit tight and wait it out. He had never been a particularly patient person, but when one was forced into patience – there was no fighting it. There was no other alternative.

He finished his dinner much to his stomach's satisfaction. All the while, he had tried to shut his ears from hearing anything that would raise his blood pressure and finally he was relieved that he could leave the table.

As he stood up, he felt shadows of eyes creep across him. He held his chin up firmly and strode defiantly away from his table. As he approached the door, he turned his head and looked at the Gryffindors'. He let his eyes linger over Weasley and Granger. On closer range they looked like how he felt. Not good.  Weasley had his arm loosely around Granger and his sister wore a strained expression. All their faces pale and drawn. 

Draco suddenly felt an immense hatred rise up like acid in his mouth. He loathed them, more so than ever. 

Loathing them for their liberty that enabled them to show concern for Harry over what had happened to him – whilst he, Draco, had to mask his emotions and pretend he didn't give a rat's arse about the attack. 

Loathing them for the accommodating sympathy that was given to them by everyone, which allowed them to grieve in peace without being forced to talk about shit and do crap – whilst _he_ had to do all of that and pretend it was _all right_. 

Simply loathing them for what they were to Harry and for everyone knowing about it and letting them just 'be'- whilst _he_ couldn't 'be' anything at all other than what they wanted _him_ to _be_. He ripped his eyes away, tasting the sour flavour of resentment at the back of his throat.

He went straight to his room and threw off his clothes and got into bed. He was alone in bed. One of the few places he could be alone.

***

The next day, he forced himself into a rigid trance, just so he could get through the day. He anxiously waited for the afternoon, when he could go to Professor Snape's office and ask for an update on Harry. 

Dumbledore had been present during both breakfast and dinner; but, much to Draco's disappointment, _neither _his teacher nor the headmaster had given him any indication that they wished to talk to him. 

However, he felt that he was allowed to go to the potions master after classes and ask about Harry anyway. Once a day. That was all right, it would have to be, because he would not have it any other way. He could compromise, just as long as he got what he wanted in part.

He knocked sharply and there was no answer. Not waiting another second, he let himself in the classroom.

'Sir? It's me.'

A harassed looking potions master greeted him with an annoyed eye. 

'No guesses as to why you are here. I have told you….'

'I know, I know you have. But it wouldn't kill you to let me ask you once a day how he is doing. I need to know something at least.'

Professor Snape said nothing and walked further into his inner chambers and Draco followed him.

There were three cauldrons set up and bubbling with different coloured liquids. A vast array of potion bottles and ingredients were set atop the table and a pile of books stacked high.

'I have nothing more to tell you other than Potter is still the same. There, I have fulfilled your wish, now leave.'

'No.'

'No?'

'No, let me help.'

'No.'

'No?'

'Yes, NO,' his professor scowled.' You cannot help. You will only get in my way and I am in no mood to watch over your every movement.'

He started to measure out a blue substance and then carefully poured it into a vial.

There were three vials with red liquid sitting in a rack.

Blood.

'Is that Harry's blood?'

'I have to test the potions on something Draco. Why? You are not about to faint on me are you?'

'No, sir.'

'Fine then be quiet and sit down if you insist on hounding me. But don't distract me while I work.'

'I won't sir.' 

Draco complied and sat down behind the desk. He picked up one of the textbooks from the pile. Professor Snape glanced at him and then turned his eyes back to his work. His eyes were so dark, that it was hard to differentiate his pupil from his iris – it made it all the more harder as to what the man was _really_ feeling.

Draco leafed through the book as quietly as possible. 

_'Origins of Dark Magic.'_

He looked at the index and turned to the Dark curses chapter. He scoured the chapter from beginning to end and then waited to speak at an opportune moment.

'It says some of the curses are irreversible.'

'I know,' came the short reply.

'But Lupin said that he believes you can come up with an antidote…well with the help of whomever. But--'

'Yes, Draco, I was there.'

Draco got up and piled the books neatly and then further organized the ingredients into small heaps on the table. 

'If you must fuss about, then you can go and wash out the empty vials if you want. There,' he indicated with his head,' in the left-hand side rack.'

'Ok,' said Draco, picking them up and walking over to the cleaning utensils.

They worked in silence and Draco felt better by keeping busy and at least helping in some small way.

They stopped for dinner and afterwards Professor Snape gave him a warning glance not to follow him into his office. Draco stifled a sigh and turned towards the common room.

***

The next few days passed similarly. He had not been approached by either Dumbeldore or Professor Snape, but still he visited his teacher with the customary afternoon visits all through the week. 

Harry's condition had not changed. There was no sign of him waking up; blood was still continuing to seep from his mouth and the research for the antidote was progressing very slowly.

Nothing had changed.

On Friday afternoon, his mind was drifting and he found himself staring at Granger's back. She hadn't raised her hand once all lesson. In fact, she looked like she was paying as much attention to class as he was. They were both sitting in the back two rows; preferring not to take part in anything other than their thoughts. Or so what he presumed to be anyway. 

He had never been in a situation like this before. He felt as if his whole life was in limbo and he was hanging over a precipice with bated breath. Constant worry was clogging up his throat. He couldn't breath freely till he knew that Harry was going to get better. It was the knowledge of what was going to happen if he didn't that ravaged his spirit so regularly, and the heaviness in his chest was almost an unbearable weight at times.

All that said, he was covering his feelings rather well. He was a good actor and his occasional bouts of moodiness were not uncommon and were well known in the Slytherin house. He had even overhead one of the lower years commenting that the reason their Prefect was so bad tempered was because Potter was getting so much attention – like he always did. 

Draco preferred to let that theory run through the school. It was better that he was a spoiled little twerp than the truth ever coming out.

As the lesson finished, he knew many people would be going to their rooms to start packing. He thankfully would not be one of them. His mother had granted his wish to remain at school. 

Greg and Vincent had looked at him with confused expressions, as had Pansy. She had pouted that Draco would not be attending dinner at the Parkinson's. He had forgotten all about that, and was happy to realise that he had managed to escape the torturous event. 

When asked his reasons for staying, he told them that he wanted to start his research for his final year project in Dark Arts and then pulled the 'poor Draco' act and said that going home made him miss his father something chronic. That had earned some sympathetic arm rubs from Pansy and Blaise and he knew that Greg and Vincent would not oppose his sentiment. They had known how close he had been to his father.

His stomach had lurched at the thought. He did miss his father. And everything was so messed up.

During dinner he received another Howler. He had received many over the week, as had other Slytherin's. He caught the red envelope smartly and opened it up, letting the voice boom out loud and another Howler that had been opened further along the table soon joined it. Not many people paid much attention to it though, as the influx of Howlers had been high this week. 

There was a spell that Professor Snape had taught the Slytherin's, where the Howlers could immediately be sent to the corner of the room, and then unfurl and burn themselves out; but Draco was not going to give anyone any satisfaction of being frightened by a Howler.  

He calmly continued to drink his soup as the shouting began. It was a girl's voice accusing him of conspiring with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 

The voice reverberated throughout the large room and he saw Weasley's eyes stray over to him. Draco felt his fury fester and gave the boy a vile glance. He knew that Granger and him were also staying for the holidays. Draco had overheard them talking in the corridor the other day. They were staying for the same reason as him.

Regular updates on Harry.

He finished his dinner and kept an aloof expression on his face as he sauntered from the hall. He knew that his nonchalance was grating on many of the students. The animosity between the Slytherin house and the other students had risen to proportionate levels and Draco purposely kept up a casual yet challenging appearance. 

He knew that people thought he was horribly prejudiced, and he was – he admitted it. However, what pissed him off was that so many of the other do-gooder's were also horribly prejudiced, yet they still remained so pious. Bunch of hypocrites, he thought, giving a sixth year Hufflepuff a fierce look as he pushed past him in the Entrance Hall.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Cont…


	6. Bide One's Time

**Disclaimer: HP was written and is owned and possessed by Miss J.K Rowling. Other than the obvious characters I make up here and there which are my lil inventions.  Oh and I made Blaise a girl.  :o)**

*-*-*-*

Chapter Six – Bide One's Time 

On Saturday those who were going home left and those who were staying mooched around as the rain poured over the grounds. Draco was glad that most of his year had gone away for the holidays. It was such a relief to know that he could come and go as he pleased for the next two weeks without his classmates questioning him at every turn. 

He had a hassle-free lunch whilst combing through the Daily Prophet for any news on Voldemort; but there was none. They had mentioned Harry twice now, but withheld the name of the attacker. Draco shook his head, _as if everyone didn't know already_, he thought. 

However, The Quibbler, which he had found left on the table, had revealed that Voldemort _had_ attacked Harry and on the letters page there were many hysterical sightings. Although Draco was quite certain that Voldemort would _not_ be appearing in some wizard's herb garden threatening him to hand over all his money. 

In the afternoon, he went up to the Owlery and spent a few minutes with Hedwig, making sure no one was around to see him. By now she expected his visits at least once a day and quickly flew off her perch and settled down near him. His own owl eyed her jealously as Draco fed her treats and Draco tried to make up for it by offering him some as well. It seemed to work and both owls were soon pecking at his empty hand. 

Checking the time, he figured it was safe to venture into Professor Snape's office. Bidding the two owls goodbye, he left the West Tower and headed downstairs to the Dungeons.

He opened the door with a quick knock and entered the office. He found Lupin and his professor deep in conversation.

'_Draco_,' Professor Snape retorted with a crack as soon as he took a breath in the office. 'The whole point of_ knocking _is to wait for an _answer_.' 

He appeared tired and even more ill tempered than usual. Draco merely nodded, muttering an apology.

'So, ehhh…' he said in way of changing the subject and starting a new conversation.

Lupin cast a side-glance at him,' we're just discussing the research sources.'

His shoulders were hunched and he was resting against the table. He also looked decidedly awful, more awful than he usually did.

'What about Harry? Anything new today?'

Lupin shook his head and Professor Snape stiffened his lips. His black hair hung limply in a greasy bob around his jaw and his mouth pressed into a thin line. The research_ really _wasn't going well.

'Can I help at all?' Draco tried again.

Lupin managed to give him a ghost of a smile whilst his teacher replied abruptly, 'no you can not.'

'But…' Draco strove on, only to be interrupted with a firm,' _no_.'

He sighed inwardly, not letting his irritation come across too soundly. 

'Fine then, I'll come back tomorrow.' 

***

Sunday afternoon.

_Knock knock. _Draco sharply rapped his knuckles against the door to Professor Snape's office. He waited for a reply and received one a whole minute later. He walked in, a nerve ticking near his chin.

'Is there any news?'

'No.'

***

Monday lunchtime

'How is Harry? How does he look?'

'Unconscious,' said the dark eyes and the dry tone. 

Draco pulled a face. He should have known better not to expect a more profound answer to his question.

***

Tuesday afternoon.

'Any news on Harry? '

'Still unconscious,' the dry tone bit in half.

***

Wednesday morning.

'So, is there….'

'No,' quick and to the point.

***

Thursday lunchtime.

Draco knocked, walked in and saw Professor Snape sitting at his desk turning pages through a book. He merely held up a hand in answer -even before Draco had uttered a word. Draco clenched his jaw tightly and walked back out without saying a word.

He admired and respected his teacher, but the man had no people skills to speak of whatsoever. If he were ever to be made Headmaster of Hogwarts, it would be a wonder if any children would attend at all. God forbid, if the man were to be hired by the Ministry, all their alliances would cease to exist and fall to dust all around them.

***

Friday afternoon. 

He knocked and waited. And waited. And waited. And then tried the handle only to find the door locked. Frustrated, he sagged against the door and stared at the floor. The whole week had passed so drearily and fucking crap   - he could have wept.

This is what hell must be like. Or perhaps he had not reached hell just yet- he was in midpoint. Not quite being anywhere. Just living through the slow tedium of the days that were pulled through the tiny hole of seconds and minutes and hours and weeks.

It would be two weeks tomorrow since Harry had been attacked. Two dreadful weeks.  He trudged back to the common room and settled down in a lethargic stupor opposite the fireplace. He dimly watched the flames whilst wondering where his housemaster had gone. Sleep came to him and he was glad to see that it was dinnertime when he awoke. 

He made his way into the hall and sat down a few seats away from some of the fifth years on the edge of the table. He observed with an uninterested expression as a small kid clambered into the hall and promptly fell flat on his face not more than a few feet away from where he was sitting. 

Draco watched as the boy sat himself up with a scrunched face and a bloody lip. Draco turned away. Granger and Weasley, who were also sitting on the edge of the Gryffindor table, glanced up concerned and Granger sprung up to help the clumsy little fool. Draco sneered. She was so predictable. 

He yawned and started to eat. He saw Weasley shoot him a dirty look and Draco wondered for a moment if Weasley _actually_ expected Draco to care that some random child had fallen over and help him. He shook his head slightly, amused at the thought. _Yeah right._ Why did he need to be playing Good Samaritan when the ''do-gooders'' (pious idiots) of the world such as the two of them were around to save the day?  Besides the kid wasn't even a Slytherin, was he? Draco continued watching as he chewed his food. The kid wasn't wearing his tie…. How could one tell? Oh wait, the kid was walking towards the Ravenclaw table. 

He passed a look of revulsion across his face.  He hated them. _Why do you have such hideous friends, Harry?_ Draco mused as he wiped his mouth with his napkin and settled back in his chair. He drank from his goblet, roving a loathing eye across the hall. 

He left a few minutes later and thumbed through a textbook for the next hour before joining half-heartedly in a card game with a few fourth-year boys. 

As it approached ten o' clock, he slipped out into the corridor. He thought he would try and see if Professor Snape was back in his room. It wasn't so late an hour that it would appear disrespectful to be knocking without it being an _emergency_. As he rounded the corner, he saw the man at his door letting himself in his office.

'Professor Snape?' he called out quickly before the door shut.

His teacher gave him a narky glare as he held the door open for Draco to enter.

He watched quietly as the tall man put down a large bag at the foot of his desk and shrugged off his outdoor cloak. Draco's curiosity was roused as he waited patiently to begin to ask questions.

As if sensing Draco's unrest, Professor Snape pushed back his hair and spoke,' I believe that we have come up with an antidote of sort.'

Draco's heart began to race,' you have?'

The professor nodded slightly to the side,' well we won't know for sure till Potter wakes up and we are able to administer it to him. It does seem promising but one can never tell.'

He went over to his cabinet and poured himself a glass of water. He swallowed it quickly and continued,' however, the longer Potter stays in a coma, the less likely it is that he will awaken.' 

Draco sat down in a chair opposite the desk as Professor Snape also lowered himself into a seat.

'The Healers are fearful of performing any kind of curative spells on him in case they react with the curse. They have no way of knowing if they will be doing more damage than good.'

He rested his elbows on the table; his long fingers forming a steeple,' so, all in all, the only thing to do is to wait till Potter wakes up and see what happens.'

'How will the antidote work against the curse?'

Professor Snape sighed,' it is a preventative antidote, basically halting the blood flow as it gathers to expel on the onset of the incantation. Hopefully, as it continues to work against the curse, it should eventually quell the effects of it all together.' 

Draco tried to sort out the information in his head,' so, ummm, Harry will bring up blood when he wakes, but as time goes by and he keeps taking the antidote, he will bring up less and less blood? And soon the effects of the curse will be void and he will stop bleeding all together?'

'Yes, if it works.'

'You don't sound too sure.'

'How can I be sure?' his teacher pinpointed him with a look,' I can't tell you it will work definitely. It has never been done before. I don't want to make declarations that may turn out to be false.'

'But you think he has a good chance of beating it?' Draco felt the quiver in his voice and suppressed it quickly.

'Half and half Draco. It is all a question of when he wakes and what will happen.'

Draco nodded and they sat in silence.

'Do you think Voldemort,' Professor Snape's eye twitched as Draco spoke,' anticipated that someone may come up for a cure for Harry?'

Professor Snape shrugged slightly,' possibly and also possibly he could not have. Sometimes arrogance is blinding and he may assume that if someone tries to find a cure, it may not work and if it does work, then it would have incapacitated Potter for a while- whilst he gains the upper hand. Potter has interfered in his plans for too long and this is his way to remove him from the equation, indefinitely or at least for a considerable amount of time. His illness will be enough of a distraction, he may hope, for Dumbledore to not be granting full attention to his whereabouts and other doings.'

***

Sure enough, on Saturday morning, his professor's words from last night came to surface immediately as he opened up the Daily Prophet. 

The killings had started.

The hall was once again full of renewed hushed conversations from the remainder of students and teachers who had stayed for the holidays. Two families had been killed with the Dark Mark floating high up in the sky above their houses. 

One was a Wizarding family, whose name he did not recognise, and another was a Muggle family whose daughter attended Hogwarts; Hayley Watson – a third year in Hufflepuff. Hayley had been away with her mother at the time of the attack and her father and elder brother had been killed. 

Draco ran an eye across the hall towards the Hufflepuff table. Granger was there with Weasley and had her arm around a smaller girl's shoulders that he had never noticed. Abbot was also there, and had her head bent down.

Draco felt himself tense as he met scornful gazes that were being directed his way. He tightened his face defensively. It wasn't as if _he_ had snuck out last night, donned Death Eater robes and joined in the killing spree.  He screwed up the paper in his hand and got up loudly, causing even more attention towards himself. Let them stare; he huffed as he stalked outside. 

He reached the common room and saw a first year sitting in his usual chair.

'Move,' he barked out and the child quickly scrambled out of it. 

He sat down heavily and opened up the paper, re-reading it more carefully. Finally the Daily Prophet had decided to acknowledge that Voldemort was back. He remembered last year, when people had thought Harry was a crazy show-off for claming such a thing. There's nothing like a couple of corpses for people to start taking notice. 

He glanced around the room and decided to pop into the library to do some reading. He thought he might as well attempt to look at a few books for his final project. At least he could have something to show to his classmates.

Ten minutes later he was standing in the corridor that led to the library when he saw Weasley walking towards him. Oddly enough since the holidays had begun, he and Weasley hadn't crossed paths face to face. 

He threw back his shoulders and walked purposefully forward. Weasley had seen him, of course; and, as he neared Draco, he roughly knocked Draco's shoulder with a snarl on his face. Draco's body jerked backwards as Weasley continued walking away.

All his anger and frustration from the last few weeks had been tightly coiled like a spring in the pit of his stomach; Weasley's antagonistic manner set it free and it sprung open. He roughly grabbed the arm that had knocked him and growled,' watch it, Weasel.'

Weasley glared down at him and wrenched his arm away,' as if.'

His head turned in the other direction as Draco spun around. 

'As if?' he yelled out, his words echoing down the corridor. 'Didn't your parents teach you any manners?' He shouted at Weasley's retreating feet. 'Or should I say a case of _bad _manners. But then your parents probably didn't have much time to teach their children any manners at all- too busy feeding the litter they produced I suppose.'

He knew that that comment would infuriate the ginger boy and he waited expectantly for a comeback. Sure enough Weasley stopped walking and Draco felt his lips curl in satisfaction. 

'Take that back,' the boy seethed, turning around, his hands balled up by his sides.

'Come here and make me why don't you?' At this very moment, there was nothing more he would like to do than to smash in Weasley's face.

They were a mere three metres apart now and Draco felt the adrenalin pump through his body. Weasley was glowering at him and Draco could tell he was thinking hard about what to do with the situation.

'What's wrong Weasel? Feeling a little stressed?' Draco taunted. He knew instinctively that Weasley would think he was talking about Harry – but that was all right, because Draco had been itching to take his anger out on someone; and Weasley was a perfect candidate. Come on Weasley, he thought – getting ready…

' What's wrong? To ''weesely'' to fight your battles on your own?' he leered. He laughed spitefully, 'knew you didn't have it in you. Your mudblood girlfriend has got to you after all – what's it like being _pussy _whipped poor boy?'

That did it. 

He saw the tall frame lunge at him as Weasley threw himself forward bodily at Draco between those few short feet. He had been ready – but not with his wand, with his fists. He didn't want to hex Weasley till he had smoke coming out of him – no; he wanted it to be physical. There was something far more satisfying in connecting fist to face. The feel of it was more fulfilling somehow. You could feel the damage being done as it was inflicted. 

And anger was good. Draco could feel anger. Use it. Feel it, welcome it and now outpour it. Pure unadulterated anger. Directed at Weasley.

He felt Weasley's fist land into his stomach and threw his own fist out, hard, and felt the rewarding crunch of hitting the red head in the chin, his head swinging like a pendulum. He heaved his other hand and laid one in Weasley's abdomen, sinking into the robes and hitting muscle. His own body could feel the dent of Weasley's hand as it had struck him like a Bludger - but it wasn't enough to make him stop. He hardly felt the pain as he now kicked out violently and felt his foot sharply hit Weasley's right ankle.

'I should re-arrange your face,' Weasley panted as they continued to batter each other.

'Re-arrange _my_ face?' Draco snorted breathlessly as his knee collided hard into Weasley's side,' lets re-arrange _your_ face shall we? It'll be a vast improvement I think.'

'_AHHH, you bloody Death Eater_,' Weasley roared and Draco felt himself slammed up against the wall. Before he got hit by another flailing fist, he ducked and then punched back hard with his tightly curled up one. Weasley staggered back at the force of the blow. _That was for the first year,_ Draco thought as his chest rose up and down from the physical assault. Weasley had that one coming for years.

He blinked then and saw knuckles zooming towards him and crush against his mouth. His head snapped to one side and he felt the taste of blood as his teeth sunk into his lower lip on impact. Not to be outdone, he slipped low and then crashed into Weasley, throwing him back against the wall and bringing his right knee up – hard and swift into the hideous boy's groin area. 

Weasley howled out,' _owwww,_' in anguish as he doubled over; Draco took advantage of the moment and smashed Weasley straight in the nose as he was hunching down. The oaf was so tall that Draco hadn't been able to get a good shot at the pasty freckled face. _But now he had._

All of a sudden, Draco became aware that they were being watched. He shot a glance and sure enough there were two girls staring at them with their mouths wide open. But he didn't care; all that mattered was that he hit Weasley as much as he could. And he would. If Weasley had noticed that they had an audience, he didn't care much either – as he launched himself at Draco again and they both tussled and fought.

'_STOP_!!' they heard a voice yell a few moments later.' _Stop immediately_!'

Professor Mcgonagall.

'_What is the meaning of this_?' she said as Draco felt a bony but strong hand grab his shoulder and pull him away from Weasley. Her voice was shaking with rage. Draco pounced forward and shoved Weasley back with his hand, feeling Mcgonagall pull at his elbow, moving the boys further apart. 

They both backed off, winded and wheezing heavily. There were a few more people who had gathered around the commotion but Draco did not register who they were. He really didn't care.

Mcgonagall was staring at them furiously.

'Two Prefects fighting in the corridors? I have never seen anything so preposterous and shameful,' her voice was cold and her eyes glimmered behind her glasses icily. 'Both of you, follow me at once.'

Draco wiped his lips, smearing blood on his fingers and across his chin. His face felt sore as did his legs and stomach. Weasley's nose appeared to be broken and Draco could not have been more pleased. The bastard was also walking with a slight limp and Draco sent him a hateful scowl as they glowered at each other behind the Transfiguration teacher.

They were going downstairs, her office no doubt. They walked in silence and were led into it by a livid Mcgonagall.

'Professor Dumbledore is not at school at present so I will have to take action myself. I must say I am appalled at your reckless display and will seriously have to have words with the Headmaster about your positions as Prefects. Mr Malfoy, this is the second time you have been caught in a brawl as a Prefect. You are supposed to be…'

Draco switched off and stared a hole into the ground. He didn't give a shit what he was supposed to be. Her voice washed over his ears and a few minutes later he saw the rustle of her black robes as she approached her fireplace. He knew instantly what she was going to do.

He exhaled irritably and watched the green fire take the form of his housemaster. Mcgonagall swiftly explained what had happened and Draco insolently heaved another sigh and threw some Floo powder into the grate and stepped inside.

As he came out of the fireplace at the other end into Professor Snape's office, he dusted himself off and then stood sullenly in front of the tall man.

'_You are an imbecile_,' his teacher hissed through clenched teeth. ' A complete and utter imbecile.'

Draco ground his own teeth together. He _really _didn't appreciate being spoken to in this manner. He raised his eyes and stared back with a wayward gaze at the potions master.

His teacher, however, was unaffected by Draco's expression and continued on in a soft voice. 

' Do you think I have nothing better to do with my time than stand here and reprimand you for your _immature_ behaviour? You are _seventeen_, as you yourself pointed out not that long ago. So I would assume that a young man of your age would pay more thought towards his actions than you have been doing lately. You are a Slytherin Prefect – how dare you bring disrepute to your house?'

Draco listened with a sulky expression on his face; his bleeding lip stuck out in a swollen pout.

'I will excuse your dismal behaviour on account of your low mental state, ' Draco narrowed his eyes as his teacher continued to fume. 'Ninety points will be taken from the Slytherin house for disgusting me. Now go to Madam Pomfrey and get yourself cleaned up before I have you serving three weeks of detention cleaning out dung in Hagrid's animal sheds.'

Draco straightened his shoulders and waited to be dismissed properly.

Professor Snape's eyes flexed for a moment before speaking,' that will be all, Mr Malfoy.'

As Draco walked away, his adrenaline rush from beating Weasley started to wane.  All he felt now was drained. His anger fusing and giving way to the familiar strains of frustration. 

***

During the week, there were more killings that were being reported. However, Draco could not muster up any feelings towards the news; he didn't know any of the people who were killed. While it was sad, of course, that lives had been taken, he was not involved personally in the tragedies and could dismiss the words soon after he had read them. 

School would be starting on Monday and, over the weekend, all the pupils who had gone away now returned.

The Howlers continued to explode daily and the teachers and Prefects had their hands full with student fights and arguments. All houses had rapidly started to lose points and detentions were being given left, right and centre. 

There was still no news on Harry, other than the antidote had been perfected as much it could be whilst not knowing its full effects. Draco was approaching the stage where he always felt on the verge of angry tears the minute he had a moment to himself. All in all – he was having a pretty bad time of it. The only reprieve he had found from his torment was when he visited Hedwig – though now school was back in session, it was harder to be alone with her in the Owlery. Just another thing to add to his bag of woes. 

On Saturday, Slytherin were going to be playing Hufflepuff. The division in the school had never felt so segregated as it did now, and the teachers were going to keep a close watch on all spectators and players. 

Draco could not have been in less of a mood to be playing Quidditch. He had vowed to himself that as soon as the Quaffle was in the air – he was going to scan the pitch high and dry for the Snitch – and just catch the damn thing so the game could be over. Not that he didn't search for the Snitch in games gone past, but at least _then _he had been more in the playing spirit. Now he couldn't think of anything more tiresome.

Thursday he found Lupin in Professor Snape's office once again. After the usual question and answer time, his teacher left the room and Lupin and Draco were alone. Draco moved to leave also when Lupin's raspy voice called out to him.

'Umm, I wondered if I might have a word?' the words were spoken softly in request. He studied Lupin for a moment before nodding. Lupin wandered over to a chair and motioned Draco to do the same.

'Yes?' Draco asked.

'I thought that perhaps I could ask you something regarding Harry.' He swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed visibly in his slim throat. 

'All right,' Draco replied slowly. 

Lupin nodded and looked Draco in the eye.' This may seem rather personal but I wondered if…well are Harry and you…together?'

Draco shook his head,' we were never ''_together''_', not in that sense. We were seeing each other for a few weeks but I didn't want us to be ''together''.'

He may as well be honest.' I broke up with Harry the day before the attack. I told him I didn't want to see him anymore.'

'But you said…'

'I care for him?' Draco stretched out his legs in front of him,' yes I do. I more than ''care'' for him.'  He was surprised to find that he had no qualms in admitting that he was gay to Lupin – probably because he didn't think Lupin was much of a threat; well other than being a werewolf. Draco cringed silently at the thought. But he knew that Lupin seemed to have Harry's best intentions in mind and so it didn't matter if he told Lupin that he cared for - loved Harry.

 'But he doesn't know that,' he carried on. 'I never got to tell him how I felt.' He cleared his throat,' we didn't tell anyone about us.'

Lupin listened quietly and then said,' were you and Harry…' he seemed to be choosing his next words carefully. 'Were Harry and you very involved?'

'Did we have sex you mean?' No point beating around the bush.

Lupin's face stilled and Draco elaborated further. 'No we didn't, not even close. But if you are worried about what my intent is towards him, you don't have to be. When I said I meant him no harm, I _actually meant_ it. '

Lupin nodded and it seemed his stiff posture had relaxed somewhat.

***

On Saturday, he had the worst match he had ever played since he had joined the team. Half of the Slytherin brooms had been hexed and so the match had been delayed for an hour as the brooms were stripped and checked. 

Mcgonagall had echoed her furious voice across the pitch and said that, for the next two weeks, all student privileges were to be nullified until all this nonsense stopped.  Otherwise, there would be no further matches or even a _final _match for the cup. There was a lot of moaning and groaning and the game had been delayed for a further half an hour. 

Once the play had been allowed to commence, every time Slytherin scored there were loud boo's and jeering directed towards the players. _More than usual._ Draco had kept his eyes sharp and keen as he sought out the winged Snitch. He tried to block out all the sound, he tried to block out everything but the golden ball – just so this game could be over. 

Ten minutes later it was; Slytherin had won. Much to the disgust of the three other houses. 

***

Exactly four and a half weeks to the day Harry had been attacked, Draco was sitting in the common room talking to Vincent and Greg. The past month had been awful and he had felt every day of every week – like a blow to the gut of every morning. And so it was then when the wall slid open with a cool draft and Professor Snape's domineering figure loomed over him.

'Draco, I would like a word with you in my office.'

Those were the words he had been waiting for all this time. He had no idea what they might mean, only that they meant _something_. Something had changed in Harry's condition. 

For better or for worse. 

He stood up so quickly he nearly stumbled over his robes in his haste. 

'Sure, Professor Snape,' he said coolly, making up for his clumsy rising. With every scrap of will power, he forced himself to walk steadily behind his teacher and out into the corridor.

He followed the potions master down the stoned path, matching his wide, quick strides with his own. His heart beating faster and louder with every step. They reached the office in seconds and he stood trembling as his teacher opened it and let him in the room.

The door snapped shut and the silence stretched out across his frazzled nerves.

He waited for the man to speak, to say something.

And then he did.

'_He is awake_.'

TBC…

*-*-*-*-*-*

My beta pointed out that I 'Killed Harry' in October and now it is February. So I do totally understand if many of you (if not all) are impatient with the slow pace and just want Harry up, at school and back with Draco. I can only write so fast and update when I can – and ideally it would be great if I could update loads and have the plot move along much quicker. But I can't.

**So I understand if lots of you have stopped reading, but I truly appreciate those of you who don't mind the slowness and are still so sweet about it.  Next chapter we see Harry. It was going to be chapter seven and eight- but I have now put the both together as seven. I will UPDATE VERY SOON- promise. Check back soonish! :o) If you want. **

Thanks for being patient, if you had the patience to read thus far. 

And thanks to: Sindar, Brenna8, Hayley, humdrumlife, destinywriters, Usually Immaculate Aristocrat, ShrineMaiden, Chyna16, anon, eclecticity, Sylvia Sylverton, Dragenphly, ~Candice~ , Elf, C. Night, bewitchingbrat, Blue eyes, futagoakuma-tenshi02, Sorceress (smile!), CRUELTY, Sapphrine, blackunicorn, Shinny, Billougby, SlytherinSexGoddess, sherdelune, Riane!!!, TGI's, Moaning, Yana5, Blank Person, Draco's Punk Rock Chick  - For Reviewing The Hermit.  

AND Thanks to: futagoakuma-tenshi02, tnf, Draco's Punk Rock Chick, Liam  - For reviewing The Chariot.


	7. Awareness And Fallacy

**Disclaimer: The genius of JK Rowling was responsible for all the HP world. **

_Thank you *** Coffeecat*** for helping me make this chapter what it is. xx_

***-*-*-**

Cont from Chapter Six...

He waited for the man to speak, to say something.

And then he did.

'He is awake.'**__**

**~*~**

_My Blank Verse Is White_

~*~

He was awake - just like that. He was awake. There had been no conscious knowledge of awakening and slowly opening one's eyes. He was just awake. His eyes were open.

The first thing he noticed was the brightness. It was all white and so bright at first. His eyes hissed shut and then narrowed – protecting and shielding as the white penetrated his pupils and mind. It began to focus. And his eyes relaxed as they embraced it.

White

Like billows of harmless white smoke, like fog but without the greyness, a concentrated expanse of white. A pleasant mist of white. It was beatific. The whiteness of Elysium.

Everything felt so still. The air was so conspicuous; he could feel it mould around his body and face. Smooth as glass but whispered like feathers. The white was like being in milk, or bathed in white liquid. White water. And it was flowing around him and perhaps he could even touch it. And he was in it with his eyes open. Rushing upwards and back at the same time.

White.

He was suddenly very aware of the weight of his body as he drifted and lay still towards the white. There was something holding him up from the back of his head, down his spine, his thighs, to his feet. (Maybe they were clouds – it was so soft). White velvet. He was sinking into it – solid, it lay underneath him, yet not falling any further. He felt so heavy and warm. Surely he would fall. He was quite heavy. But he didn't. And he didn't want to move. It was all right just being – and lying. He didn't need to move. 

He could feel his heart. It was still beating somewhere in his chest.

_Thump._

_Thump._

It was beating.

It was still there, and beating. He was dead because it was very peaceful here. Awake but dead.

He could hear the rush of blood pounding through his veins. He had blood here. It was like a faint echo of a smothered drum rustling in waves near his ears. He could feel his pulse in his wrist and in his back. 

And the blink of his eyelids against the white.

Open, close.

If he looked hard enough – black dots danced. Yellow and red dots danced in the white. And all the while there was his heart's rhythmic beating that remained constant throughout. His eyes felt heavy now against the white and they closed.

…..

…..

And opened again. It was black. There was no white. The white had been beautiful – where did it go? The beating was still there; of blood and heart but it was all dark now. He couldn't be sure if his eyes were still open. Or. Closed in the darkness. Or open in the blackness? But even the black was quite comforting. It was inky and glutinous and whole and total. And so quiet. His eyes were pressed into it and it enfolded him. But he made an effort to remember that he was now closing his eyes again.

Close.

Till it was white. And it would begin all over again. The white was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

_You were awake when you were dead. He had never considered that before._

_…_

_…_

**********************************

_Chapter Seven – Awareness And Fallacy_

~*~

Harry had been awake for one week. 

Awake as in his eyes had opened and stayed open – and they blinked and stared. They stared up at the ceiling for hours on end as if Harry was hypnotised by it, or as if he was in some deep trance or even as if perhaps he was in a catatonic state.  

He would sleep when the lights were turned off and awoke when the lights came on. This may have been a somewhat promising turn in events had it not been for the fact that Harry was as much in a comatose state as he had been when his eyes were closed. 

He had not uttered a sound, not moved a muscle. There was no movement he made other than his eyelids opening and closing and his chest rising and falling with each breath. He did not respond to any stimulant, no noises, no voices. He did not respond at all. 

Molly Weasley had come rushing with her husband when she had been informed that Harry was awake. She had tried to nudge his shoulder slightly to get some reaction from him through her tears, but it had been like moving an inanimate object. Heavy, still and seemingly lifeless. 

The curse had also now officially sealed itself –Harry's eyes opening triggered off the sign it had been awaiting. Apparent consciousness.  And it flowed in bright red streams from the corners of his mouth, slipping down his chin, dripping into the hollow of his neck. Pooling like a garish puddle against the white of his skin. It bubbled from the centre of his lips and trailed a path…. And all the while Harry made no signs of even realising that he was bleeding. He made no signs of even realising that he was alive and in this room.

The worry concerning his condition grew, and the antidote was immediately administered through tubes that had been inserted into his arms in the hopes of quelling the blood flow as soon as possible. He had several Healers attending to him during all the hours of the day. Numerous visitors came to see him, each in hopes of rousing him from his exclusion – but to no avail. 

Perhaps he wasn't even in a catatonic state. They had no way of knowing what was going on in his mind and were nervous of doing any probing examinations in case it caused negative friction with the poisonous curse. 

Today, on a very wet Monday morning, sat one Rubeus Hagrid. He was hunched in a chair that had been enlarged to accommodate his huge bulk. His girth took up half the length of the bed and he towered over everyone – even whilst seated.

He was sitting alone with Harry and his huge shoulders shook with sobs as he wept into his hands. He had visited Harry a few weeks ago and had been so overcome with sorrow that he had to be given a draught to calm him down. Dumbledore had not allowed him to visit until he was sure that Hagrid could manage to keep himself in some semblance of control. After much pleading, the headmaster consented the visit and Hagrid had since been trying to keep his distress and heartbreak as tightly packed in as he could.

He wiped his eyes, looking at Harry's wide vacant gaze.

''Arry?'' he cleared his throat. 

Nothing

' Harry?' he pleaded in a clearer voice.

Nothing.

The tears started again and he drew out a large hankie from his pocket and blew his nose harshly. He then hunched over the bed slightly and gave Harry a watery smile. 

'Harry? Can yer hear me? It's me Hagrid. Come ter see ya.' He sniffed audibly and looked around the bare room, sighing. ' Not bad this room. It's warm enough. Err, yer looking a bit better now. Yer are. Than yer did. '

His chin wobbled and the tears wet Harry's bed sheets like small bonnet glasses of water, spilling over the fabric. 

'Sorry,' he bawled loudly and gasped in his sobs, trying to compose himself.  

The door opened and in came a Healer. She smiled at Hagrid and then moved to Harry's bed chart – noting a few details before running over Harry's body with a soft spell that bathed him in blue light for a second. She watched as the light lingered around Harry's body and then took further notes. Hagrid watched her with a bemused expression, whilst mopping up his face. She smiled again before she left and Hagrid sniffed hard.

'So err.. I um had a class the other day. On Friday it was. And we was in the green house and this small firs' year got a bit of a fright.' He let out a small exhalation that wasn't quite a laugh. 

The door opened again and in came Minerva Mcgonagall.

'Hagrid, I will be leaving now.  Albus has a meeting and I need to get back to the school.' She watched him with sharp eyes and seemed to take in his reddened ones. ' Will you be all right? You could come back with me if you would like.' Her normally stern voice was softened as she spoke gently to the giant.

Hagrid shook his head,' no I wanna be stayin' here fer a little while longer.'

He turned his eyes to Harry again and gave a smothered wail. 

'Lily and James' hearts would be breakin' if they knew what was happenin' ter their son,' Hagrid suddenly cried. His voice trembled and a grief stricken look passed over his face. 'He shouldn' have to be goin' thru this stuff. He shouldn',' he sobbed.' I remember when e' was a baby. So small. Yer remember?'

She nodded, biting her lips in tightly, her eyes misting over behind her glasses.

'He's still so small. I shouda' dun more to protect 'im, I shouda' dun more. They'd be heart broken I tell ya. Heart broken. An Sirius. He'd be cursin' us 'e would, fer lettin' this happen.'

The tall witch took in a shallow breath and squared her shoulders,' Hagrid, you must calm yourself. You know what Albus said.'

The giant nodded, his bushy hair and beard bowing slightly. He inhaled deeply and then said, 'I'm gonna look out fer him, I am.' 

She gave him a glimmer of a smile, ' I will see you later then,' and she left the room. 

Hagrid nodded to himself and moved his chair closer to the bed. He very carefully reached out his hand and lay the gentlest of touches upon Harry's head. His fingers very lightly skimmed past Harry's hair and he looked sad as he drew his hand back. 

'Uh…well to give yer sum updates on school,' again came the loud clearing of his throat.' Slytherin played Hufflepuff and err won.' He shook his head. 'That didn' go down ter well mind but.. Y' know.'

He bobbed his head, continuing to talk. 'We had some good puddin' yesterday. Treacle tart – yer fav'er it. Yer jus get better an yer can have all the treacle tart yer want. Yer can. ' He paused for a moment, as if expecting Harry to respond to his prattling. 'Dobby sent yer a blanket. He made it, with Winky. It's nice it is. All sewed up. Yer can put it in yer trunk and take it out when it gets cold. Everybody wants yer ter get better.' 

His large eyebrows creased and his lips drooped, eyes filling with more tears for the umpteenth time. 'Jus want yer ter get better, Harry.' And the heart breaking sobs rang out in the otherwise silent room.

***  

It took a while for the voice to become clear. It was like a pinprick in his white calm.  Penetrating his foggy mind, nudging him out of his white world. At first it sounded like a faint echo, and then of someone calling out in the distant. The voice then came closer and there was movement – a touch. Harry heard the voice as close as if it were right next to him. And it was. He recognised it. But it didn't make sense. It couldn't be…

His eyes automatically shifted to the side to find the owner of the familiar voice.  They fell on a huge giant who was crying piteously into his hands. 

'Hagrid?' his voice was so low that Hagrid did not hear it above his own lament. His voice barely a whisper and sounding bewildered and small.

'Hagrid?'

He tried moving his fingers. His arms felt so stiff and heavy. But he still could _feel_. He was still here...

Hagrid wiped his eyes and when he opened them, he saw Harry looking up at him.

'Harry?' he stuttered, his eyes widening in disbelief.' Harry…' His mouth hung open flabbergasted. 

Harry's eyes flickered and they were definitely staring up at Hagrid.

'Harry, yer're, yer're…yer reco'nise me?' 

'Yeah,' he said quietly, his expression pained as if he were coming to some sort of realisation. He looked at Hagrid mutely as the giant watched him in awe. 

Harry licked his lips and breathed out slowly. 'You were crying?'

The words seem to jolt the giant out of his stupor.

'Me? No,' he sniffed again.' I'm jus allergic yer know, to all the cleanin' stuff in the 'ospital. All them detergents and all. My nose gets all bunged up.' He hauled in a gulp of air, his nostrils flaring out. He rubbed his eyes quickly with the heel of his left hand.

'But yer're up, I mean yer're awake, I mean…' A wide smile broke through his beard and his eyes looked fevered as the excitement in his face built up.

'I should get the Healers in,' he looked around in a flurry as if the Healers were going to magically appear by his side. He scraped his chair back a little, muttering, ' they should have a look at yer.'

Harry closed his eyes, his eyelids crinkling as he squeezed them tightly. When he opened them again, he saw Hagrid standing over him looking impossibly tall – his shadow consuming the whole bed.

'I'm not dead am I?' Harry said softly.' Why aren't I dead?' His face looked solemn and very pale. 

Hagrid stared at him shocked and sat back down heavily in his chair with a loud thump, shaking the ground slightly. ' Course yer're not dead! Why would yer be dead? Yer'll be all right now…yer'll be fine. Dead…' he said gruffly, near to tears again, with a panicky hand gesture. 

He looked as if he was going to bolt out of the chair for some help when Harry attempted to lift his fingers again. Hagrid caught sight of the tiny movement and shuffled closer.

He reached out and brushed Harry's fingers with his own. 

' 'Ere,' he said, his tears gathering in the corners of his eyes and dripping.' Try and grip my finger.' He moved his large index finger underneath Harry's hand and Harry folded his fingers around it.

'There we go…yer'll be all right, Harry, yer'll be fine.'

He brought down his right hand towards Harry, which would normally make Harry wince at the sight of the giant hand crossing over his face – but he was beyond wincing. He didn't even flinch. He peered up at Hagrid and Hagrid gave him a gentle smile and let his huge thumb stroke over Harry's forehead, smoothing away the strands of hair.

He was so gentle and Harry could feel the warm pressure of Hagrid's hand brush over his hair. Harry let out a dejected sigh and closed his eyes, his head leaning into Hagrid's giant palm. His hair was mussed for a few minutes and then Hagrid drew back again.

Harry's eyes snapped open at the loss of contact and Hagrid looked at him thoughtfully for a moment.

'I better get sum' one,' he murmured abruptly, and heaved out of the chair quickly, pounding towards the door. He wrenched it open loudly and called out for a Healer.

Within a few seconds two Healers came in and Hagrid stood back whilst they examined Harry. Harry shut his eyes as they started to ask questions and Hagrid brusquely said,' jus give him sum time, 'fore yer startin'. Sum space. He is awake now. He'll be all righ' soon.'

Harry swallowed and then opened his mouth.

'What was that, Harry?' Hagrid strode over and bent down,' what do yer want? I'll get it fer ya. What is it?'

Harry whispered something and Hagrid straightened up.

'His mouth is dry, sum water maybe and a refreshin' potion or sumthin.'

The Healers started to get busy and Hagrid grinned widely.

'I better go an tell Dumbledore yer awake. He'll be so pleased. He's bin so worried about yer.' He smiled broadly and came forward again. He bent down and brushed the lightest kiss on Harry's forehead. His beard prickling Harry's skin like the tips of skeletal twigs. 'Good ter have yer back.' 

He beamed down through his tears, and Harry said in a tiny voice,' Hagrid don't go, I don't want…'

'Shh,' Hagrid soothed over his words,' it's all right. I'll be getting Dumbledore now. It will all be fine.'

Harry shut his eyes with a crushed look and Hagrid smiled, not understanding Harry's plea. 'Ar that's right. Yer get sum rest.'

As he started to walk away and out of the room, he didn't hear the choked voice call out and beckon him back.

*** 

That night, after he had brought up mouthfuls of thick cherry-red blood and the Healers cleaned him up, Harry noticed Albus Dumbledore standing at the back of the room. 

His body seemed to stiffen at the sight of the man and his jaw tightened with tension. However, Dumbledore either overlooking the expression or choosing to ignore it - wore a very faint smile of his own as he swept over to the bed.

'We are glad that you have joined us, Harry,' the old wizard spoke kindly, his expression cool and composed. Harry's eyes seemed to be focussed on the length of his beard that was brushing against the tops of the sheets.

'Would you like to wear your glasses? The Healers said you hadn't asked for them.'

'No.'

Dumbledore nodded and swiftly carried on speaking.

'The antidote that was brewed for you will start to take affect quite soon. I have no doubt that you will make a full recovery.'

Harry remained quiet.

'I believe that they have filled you in of your condition?'

Harry took a moment before answering. 'Yes.' 

A small bounce of the head made Dumbledore's beard tickle the sheets as it swayed a little like a paintbrush. Harry's eyes followed the movement dully.

'Your well-wishers have sent many gifts for you. You have bags of post and the flowers have been distributed throughout the hospital. I feared that at one point I would have to wade through them to get to your bed.' He gave a little chuckle as he stood with his hands laced in front of him. 

Harry remained unmoved as his preoccupied gaze continued to be rapt with the white beard.

'Would you care to read any of your cards?'

'No,' he retorted flatly. 

'Oh well,' Dumbledore said pleasantly,' plenty of time to do all that later on.'

Harry shifted his eyes away and rested his head back on the pillows. He had been lifted up into a sitting position as it helped for him not to choke on his scarlet vomit.

'Is there anything you would like to ask me?'

Harry stayed silent.

'Hermione and Ron are very anxious to see you, and Remus Lupin as well.'

The silence was awkward and strained but the two people in the room did not acknowledge it vocally.

'Very well, I will see you tomorrow, Harry.' He inclined his head and gave Harry a gentle smile before Harry shut his lids and he left the room. Harry opened his eyes once the wizard had gone, his countenance grave, as he sat alone with his thoughts. 

***

Over the next two days, Harry was further introduced to the gruesome affects of the curse. He would often find his stomach tighten and then heave, quickly feeling his mouth fill with warm, thick blood. He would gag and the Healers would rush to his side, telling him to 'let it out'. 'Letting it out' meant throwing up gushes of blood in the pan that was hurriedly held under his chin. He watched his blood land thickly in the dish, spattering the metallic sides. After each episode he would lay back weakly and his eyes would close – escaping the worried looks the hospital staff shared. 

Thursday afternoon there was a soft knock on the door and Harry opened his eyes to see his visitor. The door opened and in came Lupin. A bright smile appeared on his tired and worn face as he came towards Harry.

'Hello, you are up I see. My visits are usually ill-timed as you are usually sleeping.'

Harry looked at him almost eagerly, his eyes earnest. He licked his lips and shuffled a little higher on the bed. 

Lupin swallowed and his watchful gaze swept over Harry's form.

'How are you feeling? I mean honestly – how are you feeling?'

'I'm not sure,' he said. 

Lupin nodded. Harry's eyes shifted to the chair that Hagrid had occupied a few days earlier. It sat empty by Harry's bedside. Harry looked from the chair and then to Lupin. 

' I know they told you about the curse, Harry. But you have to remain positive because you are going to get better. It is taking affect already and..' 

' Dumbledore said,' Harry interrupted, his brows furrowing slightly. Harry pulled his eyes away from the chair and fixed them upon Lupin.

'Of course he did, yes. He must have talked to you already.' 

Lupin coughed a little and swallowed, looking tense. Harry's expression was rapidly losing the expectant look that had glimmered in his eyes when Lupin had first come in the room. He gazed at him for a moment and then lowered his head. His eyes downcast and fixed on the plain sheets that were tucked over his legs.

'Harry? Can I get you anything?' Lupin's soft eyes looked genuinely concerned but Harry wasn't looking at him.  

' No,' he said in a level voice. 

'All right,' came a hoarse reply.

Harry's features were still, his hands were gripping the sheet on his lap tightly, knuckles white. 

Lupin shifted uneasily on his feet, but still did not make an attempt to sit in the chair. ' Everyone is waiting for you to get better,' he said. 'You're going to be all right. You're strong, you will overcome the curse.' He gave a grim smile,' you had us concerned there for a while. But you came through.'  

Harry's eyes gave him a fleeting look before moving away. His fingers relaxed on the sheet slightly, folding the material under his hands. 

'I feel a little tired,' he said evenly, his eyes considering the thin man standing next to his bed.

'Tired?' Lupin asked. 'Ok, umm I'll leave you to it then. I'll pop in at some point.'  

A flicker of something akin to triumph passed in Harry's eyes and Lupin's brow creased in a puzzled and troubled expression. He moved away and then as he approached the door he turned around and said, 'soon.'

Harry bitterly watched the door shut with a soft click, letting out a deep sigh before closing his eyes in resignation.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

TBC..

** Thanks to eclecticity hugs**

Thank you to : Purple Neko02, Dragenphly, SeparatriX, Usually Immaculate Aristocrat, Katherine, reviewer, humdrumlife, Kristen, Faby, C. Night, M&M, destinywriters, Brenna8, malfoysnogger , Ravenfrog, Keyboy, Hayley, Chyna16, Mak Felton, Nikki, kaydee , fruity , CarlalekLJ, Raven, emster*, Sapphrine, Draco's Punk Rock Chick, ncgal, Valerie747 , Yana5, Godlovesme, Belle, Rowenna, grtluva: For reviewing The Hermit.  

Thank you to : DragonSoul, Rowenna for reviewing The Chariot.

**Thanks to **

Chyna16, ironfish, Epona, Yuki Kurai, pinkmoonbunny2002, hypergurl20022, driven to insanity, H_and_D_gurl, HanLeia1, Malfoy Snogger, WaterBaby, Faby, Siderius Cimmerii, Nikki, Bartini Girl 03, Jazzylady, ncgal, Alyanah, Jackie, acdc4913, SunGoddess1, Usually Immaculate Aristocrat, Harriet, Belle, Rowenna

**For reviewing With A Kiss!! blush I just felt like writing it :o) Hehee******

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	8. Hyperborean

**Dissing the Claim- HP kingdom was written by JK Rowling.**

**~*~**__

_Thank you to my lovely little beta * **Coffeecat**** ***for always encouraging me._**__**

**~*~**

**Chapter Eight- Hyperborean**

Draco was going to see Harry tomorrow. 

After all these harrowing weeks, he was finally allowed -- to see -- Harry -- tomorrow. At the hospital. For half an hour. 

_Half a fucking hour._

It was Saturday night and Draco had gone to bed extra early because he could no longer bear the noise and conversation around him in the common room. His stomach felt as if it were crawling with worms and he felt sick with anticipation. He shifted onto his side and stared into the dark nothingness of his veiled bed. Pulling the duvet up higher near his face, he rubbed his cold feet together under the blankets. 

Ever since Professor Snape had informed him that Harry had woken up, he had been trounced over with a multitude of emotions. Happy and relieved that Harry had woken and scared of what that translated to Harry's physical state. The fact that Harry had been totally unresponsive at first did nothing to quell Draco's anxiety. 

He remembered clearly a week and a half ago, when his teacher had once again called him into his office and told him that Harry had 'come out' of his oblivion state and was sitting up and talking. Draco had nodded and listened to every word carefully and then literally ran out of the room, just in time so that his teacher did not see his eyes fill with tears of relief.

He flipped over onto his back again, straightening his legs out. He had got a few magazines together for Harry. He wondered if he should perhaps get him something else as a get-well gesture. Though he wasn't sure how much Harry would care about 'get well' gestures. 

Weasley and Granger had gone to visit Harry today. He had overheard them on Wednesday talking about it and he had run to Professor Snape and demanded that he too be allowed to see Harry. Up till then he had been told firmly that neither he nor any other student was allowed to see Harry at the moment. He had swallowed his disappointment down bitterly and thought it best to seek his next opportunity when it arose. 

And then it had. 

At his request, his house master had looked at him disapprovingly and led him to the direction of Dumbledore's office. After much deliberating, Dumbledore had agreed to his visit; but only if Draco kept the knowledge to himself. Draco had been insulted with the insinuation that he _wouldn't_ keep it to himself but his need to see Harry overcame his self-righteous anger. He didn't understand why it was Dumbledore who was permitting the visits in the first place anyway. What about Harry's family?

He sighed and turned over onto his right hand side, bunching up the pillow under his arms and trying to find a comfortable position for his head. 

Shit, the exams were starting on Monday. He had revised quite thoroughly as in going through the actions of reading and making notes. He just wasn't sure how much information had sunk into his brain. He guessed he would find out when the results came back. 

He now turned over on his stomach, suffocating himself by smothering his face in the pillow. 

He wondered how Granger and Weasley's visit with Harry had gone. The last time he had seen them was at lunch. He turned his face to the side and took in a few gulps of air, his neck starting to ache a little. He and Weasley had stayed out of each other's way since their _little fight._ Mainly because Draco found he just didn't have the energy to spar with the lanky idiot and it seemed neither did Weasley. 

In fact, Weasley's sprits had taken a considerable nosedive. Last week Gryffindor had played against Ravenclaw and lost. _Lost badly_. Weasley had let in too many goals and the she-weasel had let the Snitch go to Chang. Due to point difference, Slytherin were going to play Ravenclaw for the cup in a few weeks time. 

Draco felt the familiar annoyance surface at the thought of the Gryffindor team. Of course they had everyone's sympathy (except of the Slytherins obviously). Due to the loss of their prize player, it had been a real _blow _to them and they were _so_ upset with what had happened to Harry, that _even_ if they played badly, it was all right. All right because the rest of the school _understood_ and empathised with them. 

Their foul game play had been placated with sympathetic glances and pats on the back. Draco had felt fury rattle his brain at the visual aids. Slytherin had won because he, Draco, had caught the Snitch in the previous game. She- weasel could have done the same thing but _obviously _her grief was so much _worse_ than Draco's that she couldn't _concentrate_ on the game. _Bull shit._ But that was their excuse and he _hated_ them for using Harry as an excuse for their shoddy performance. He wouldn't allow Weasley any latitude for grieving. His grief could _not_ be worse than Draco's. Draco refused to even consider that notion.

He shifted again, and huffed out a breath. Filch had threatened the students with five hour detentions if he caught anyone doing any magic in the corridors. There were still hostile confrontations in the hallways, though the teachers had taken a ruthless stance on any skirmishes.

Draco was both dreading and looking forward to the summer holidays. He badly wanted to get away from school - feeling as if the stone walls were driving him insane, but also knowing that these stone walls were the only things that kept Harry near to him – when he returned. 

Draco tossed over onto his back again and threw the blankets down to his waist. He had received an owl from his mother the other day. She had informed him that they were going to spend their summer holidays in France. No doubt she wanted to put some distance between herself and England. 

He rubbed his left foot; it still felt tender. Bloody Millicent, he scowled. She had stepped on it earlier today as she had fallen backwards onto him after losing her balance. He had shoved her away viciously but not before her fat weight sunk down onto his toes. She had got even fatter over the Easter holidays. God, she was ugly. And fat. 

He pulled the blankets up again. He was going to see Harry. He suddenly wondered if Harry had been told that it was he, Draco, who had found him in the alley. Draco's throat constricted at the thought. Did Harry even remember the attack? If so, then how much? Draco had no idea as to Harry's mindset. Professor Snape did not share such details with him.

He sighed, feeling sweat break out across his skin and changed positions again. He shut his eyes tight and settled down for an uncomfortable and sleepless night.

~*~

In years to come, he would remember this visit to Harry clearly in his mind. It would come back in his nightmares and haunt him every now and again; the image of him flashing across his eyes for brief seconds. 

Looking back, he sometimes wondered why no one thought to warn him. But then who was there to warn him? Who cared enough to? Maybe Harry's appearance did not hurt them as much as it hurt him. That would be the obvious answer. All that had been said by Professor Snape in a crisp tone was that he would meet Draco by the reception in half an hour.

He had half an hour to visit Harry. 

Starting from now.

Harry's room was on another floor by this time and as Draco walked through the corridor; his mind was overcome with flashbacks of his previous visit to the hospital. Harry limp in his arms, all the blood soaked clothes. How awful it had all been… 

His eyes fought against the invading thoughts as he now stood outside Harry's door taking deep breaths. Apprehensively he thought what would be Harry's reaction on seeing him? In all his eagerness to see Harry, he had forgotten that Harry's last memories of him were not particularly savoury. He cringed. Oh well… 

Draco threw back his shoulders and steeled himself against the onset of further nerves and figured he could cope with Harry's reaction whatever it may be. He had waited for too long to get here, to this point. His pulse hummed nervously as he opened the door and entered the room.

He immediately took in Harry's form in the bed. Black inky hair; the only visible colour on the otherwise white sheets. Harry was half lying and half sitting up. He was laying so still and he hadn't looked up at the sound of Draco coming in the room. His face was turned away from the door and Draco quietly shut it behind him and walked around to the bedside. He could see that Harry's eyes were closed. He was sleeping. Draco stood for a moment and then hesitantly edged nearer, carefully making an effort to be very quiet. 

Harry was breathing in and out silently, his mouth slightly open. Draco felt a wave of tenderness rush over him as his eyes caressed Harry's face. He had missed him so much. He licked his lips and puffed out a small breath as his gaze swept over the sleeping figure.

The colour of Harry's face seemed to be hued with an unhealthy grey and looked paper-thin. Draco inched closer and very carefully touched his fingers over Harry's hair. His fingers barely skimming the strands. He took in a deep breath to still his body and lowered his lips slowly to the mop of black hair and placed a kiss softer than a whisper of breeze on the top of Harry's head. He drew back as Harry sighed softly and he smiled warmly at the sound. 

Automatically his head leaned in closer and before he could debate whether this was a good idea or not – he pressed a gentle kiss on Harry's lips. At the first touch, his body was gripped in a furore of emotions. All the pent up frustration, the longing; all releasing in one long sweet kiss. He could feel Harry's lips quiver underneath his and his deepest wish was to wake Harry with a loving kiss. He kept his eyes open and could see Harry's lids flickering. He was waking up.

Eventually Harry's lips pressed back against his. The slight pressure of his lips against Draco's made a tingle of delight flow down Draco's spine. He smiled and drew back as wide-open eyes stared at him in wonder and surprise.

'Hi,' he whispered his voice dipped low with a roughened edge.  

'Draco?' Harry said. He looked amazed and stunned and Draco stepped back a little to give Harry some room to breathe. 

'Sorry,' Draco said quickly.  'I couldn't help it.' He stumbled and started again, 'I uhh…'

Harry shook his head and a soft smile pulled his pale lips upwards. 

'It's all right.' He extended a hand out towards Draco and Draco gratefully grabbed it. Harry tugged him closer…. and they were kissing again. And all was forgiven and…

Wait… What…

Harry's eyes were still closed and were now stirring as if he was waking out of a deep slumber. Draco was an inch away from Harry's lips - they weren't kissing at all. He breathed out a ragged breath. Shit. He was pathetic. His fantasy world was getting the better of him yet again.  He had a sickness. Seriously. Visions of what he wanted to happen seemed to over rule his reality for what was happening. Daydreams were more comforting than harsh realism. And here he was, swamped by another alternate experience.  He shook his head and swallowed hard as he moved back, his eyes drifting further down Harry's body.  

He could see the faint hint of blue veins on Harry's arms that were resting on top of the sheets. The veins stood up more sharply on the tops of his hands. Draco's heart constricted with worry as he assessed Harry's appearance. He looked dangerously anaemic and so frail. His black lashes and brows were in stark comparison to his pallor. He looked smaller as well. Either the bed was too big or Harry had become small. He looked …small. Draco felt a sickening lurch in his stomach. _Don't be ridiculous_, he chided himself. Harry hasn't shrunk. His body has gone through a lot and he was propped up in a rather large bed… that is all.

He cleared his throat and Harry's eyes fluttered open. Draco felt bad for waking him but he only had half an hour, plus he had wasted two minutes daydreaming like an idiot….

'Hello,' he said hoarsely, sounding as if he were recovering from a sore throat. He cleared his throat a little more severely and wasn't quite prepared to see the next vision that greeted him.

The sharp intake of breath could not be helped when Harry's eyes opened fully. Draco's breath froze and his mouth snapped open in shock. He stood still and immobile for a few moments - his brain registering what he was seeing. He took in a few shallow breaths before wetting his lips and exhaling out slowly. His eyes remained wide and frozen on Harry's face and he willed himself to blink and look away. His chest felt like someone had sat a heavy weight on his heart and his heartbeat was racing frantically. _Calm down, calm down,_ his mind screamed at him and he mechanically put his hand on a chair that was by Harry's bedside. He looked at the wooden frame, trying to ease his frantic mind. Oh God…he wanted cry…he was quivering inside. _Harry._

He forced himself to breathe out again and sat in the chair, forcing a smile on his face. He determinedly lifted his head and looked at Harry. At the face he loved. He desperately tried to find his voice again. The sharp bitter taste of bile teased his taste buds and he pushed it down.

'Hi,' Harry replied quietly and Draco balked at the sound of his voice. So low and quiet. He sounded exhausted and his voice matched the way he looked. Drained. 

Draco tried to pull himself together quickly. Words. He needed words to say but all that came out were a few short pants. _Don't you dare fucking cry._ Harry looked at Draco with a vague and uncertain look as he sat in the chair. Draco couldn't quite surmise the fleeting glance as Harry dropped his lashes. _What's wrong, Harry?_ He wanted to ask but thought better of it. He instead tried to make conversation.

'You look um…' he blinked and attempted to organise his words properly. 'You're awake now, you look…' He tried again.  'You seem to be doing much better,' he managed to say, annoyed at himself. _Just talk. Words. Talk to him._ 'Umm I got you some magazines.' He held them out awkwardly for a second before placing them on the bedside cabinet next to the other items already there.

'Thank you,' Harry said croakily, as if he were trying to speak louder but couldn't. His voice was scratchy and Draco's eyes immediately attuned to the rise and fall of Harry's chest. He was breathing with shaky gulps now, his mouth slightly open, taking in small mouthfuls of air. Draco felt himself ache with sympathy. He bit his lip and frowned with concern.

'Can I get you anything? Water?' 

'No, thank you,' Harry whispered simply. 

He turned his face back and met Draco's gaze for a moment. His lips were still the same waxy yellow they had gone that night, only now his sickly colour blended in with them. His lashes framed eyes that had scared the very breath out of Draco's body. He couldn't quite comprehend how such a once vivid, vibrant shade of green, had now completely vanished. He loved Harry's eyes and now they no longer shone, they were lifeless and flat and were practically colourless. There was hardly any colour in them at all. Like green in a painting with careless splashes of water causing it to fade to such a point that it was barely visible. The colour of murky water with the slightest tinge of green - if at all. 

Draco for a moment had a horrifying thought grip him and he quickly shook it away. Harry was looking right at him. The pupils were tiny and hovered in the pale of Harry's eyes. But Harry was looking at him…..wasn't he? Yes, he was. He had dark circles around his eyes and they only made the transparency of his irises worse and more noticeable. He looked wretched and miserable and broken, his eyes depressingly lack lustre.

'How do you feel?' Draco asked casually, ignoring the panic and horror swirling in his stomach. Harry had that hazy air about him that often clouded ill people. The vapour of sickness dulling their eyes and faces and the very air around them. Like a misty fog that distanced them from everyone. Draco could almost see the cloud surround Harry and he wished he could part the way and gather him up close into his arms. Hug him better, make him feel better somehow. He looked awful and Draco's heart wept at the sight. 

The poison in Harry's veins had laid a cursed blanket over him and the foreboding scent of it could be smelt all around. Draco didn't realise there could be so much blackness in a room so white. The inexplicable feeling of something profound and dark encroached the corners of the room and Draco felt his heart squeeze in fear. _Harry was sick._

'Fine,' Harry said answering his question and breaking Draco out of his daze. The word was more mouthed than spoken aloud. It hurt to speak it seemed. Draco attempted a reassuring smile.

'It's ok, Harry. It hurts to talk a little?'

Harry nodded and Draco responded with a gentle half smile. Harry turned his face away and stared at the wall opposite him.

He wasn't wearing his glasses. Everything must be blurry- he couldn't see clearly. Draco felt a painful pang hit him at the thought. Maybe he didn't want to see. After all, Harry's eyes had taken on the appearance of not wanting to be seen. Maybe he had seen too much.

Draco cleared his throat again.

'I heard that you might be able to come back to school soon….' He trailed off wandering how Harry felt about that. Though Harry looked beyond exhausted and Draco very much doubted if Harry cared about anything at the moment. He looked shattered with illness. The blood loss had taken its toll on him. 

Draco lowered his eyes as Harry gave a faint shrug in reply.

He could see Harry's hand resting by his side and wanted to so much take a hold of it in his. To tangle his fingers with Harry's. To hold his hand and never let go. He wanted to touch Harry in some small way. In any way. 

'So umm Slytherin beat Hufflepuff and umm I'm afraid err Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor. So actually Slytherin are playing Ravenclaw in June - for the cup...' 

Harry nodded and Draco noted that Weasley had probably told him all this yesterday. He saw a 'get well' card on the cabinet next to Harry's wand and a dish pan. His eyes were drawn to the scrawl inside. It was from Weasley and Granger. Draco hadn't bought a card…He looked down at his hands and the silence dogged incessantly; thickly swirling around them. 

'Uhh have you been eating all right?'

Another nod. Not entirely convincing as Draco noticed the weight loss on Harry's frame. He stared mutely at Harry who was looking at the bed spread. The strained tension in the room was buzzing around in the room and Draco wished he could shed it and say what he really wanted to say. _Sorry, I'm so fucking sorry for everything. Talk to me- tell me how I can help_ – But the words remained stuck in his head. It just didn't seem right to say them somehow. Instead he sat quietly, wishing he were braver or better. He had been so desperate over the last few weeks and now…He raised his head and savoured the fact that he was sitting next to Harry. He'd be damned if he didn't cherish every second of this visit. 

He stood up and Harry looked at him with an intense gaze. Draco smiled thinly and leant over Harry slightly, faking straightening the bed sheet. There was a little fold that flapped over the corner and he could feel Harry's form under the material as he tucked it over. He needed to feel Harry, feel him as solid and real and here. To touch him. He inhaled deeply and felt his spirit fall a little lower. He couldn't smell Harry. Harry's smell had faded. The curse was stripping Harry of everything and he couldn't stand Harry fading, any part of Harry fading.

_You're not going to fade my darling, you won't. I won't let you._

He just didn't know how yet. He straightened up and pressed himself closer to the mattress. His nose was a mere inch or so away from Harry's hair and Harry lifted his head, a curious expression settling on his face. Draco gave a watery smile and held Harry's stare, his hand dropping down near to Harry's. His fingers brushed over Harry's hand ever so slightly. He dropped his head a fraction and his lips tickled the top of Harry's head. Harry's eyes closed and Draco felt himself tremble with a rush of love. He stood like that for a few seconds, feeling overcome but for the first time since he had walked through the door- he was with Harry, in the same space. He had parted the cloud a little. 

Finally he gently moved back and Harry's eyes opened immediately, locking onto Draco's.  They looked at one another silently and Draco hardly dared to breath.  He should tell Harry now. Tell him everything. This was it. He had Harry's attention - he could say it... _I love you._

'Harry?' he began softly. 'I'm so…' __

The door opened as he whispered, 'sorry,' and in came a Healer, rudely trampling over his words. Harry's eyes abruptly shot away from him. He hadn't heard; the _fucking door_ had smothered Draco's voice.

_Fuck. _

_'_Hello dear,' the cow said to Harry, bustling close to the bed.' Just want to take your temperature.'

Draco bit the inside of his cheek and gave the woman a furious glare. Bitch - why the hell did she have to come in now? So fucking typical. He ground his teeth together and moved back stiffly as she hovered around Harry. Draco stared daggers into the offending woman's back as she fussed about. Three minutes later she was finished and Draco gave her a mutinous glower. She gave him a questioning look and he scowled in return as she went. The moment was gone. The cloud had drifted back into place and he was no longer _with Harry_. 

_Fuck._

He sat back down with a hollow thump and stared at Harry who was now staring at the wall. 

Too soon his half an hour came to pass and he fought not to scream out in frustration; he didn't want to leave. He wanted to sit here for longer, say things, do things he hadn't been able to do. _He needed more time._ He felt a stab of hysteria spark at the back of his throat as he stood up. His feet didn't want to move. The visit hadn't gone as he had hoped at all. Nothing ever did. Why was that? What torturous game plan did life have for them anyway? Why did nothing ever go right for once?

'Harry,' he said in a small voice. 'Take care of yourself, ok? I have to go now. I was only allowed to see you for half an hour.'

Harry turned his head to face him.

'Ok. Umm thanks for coming...'

Draco immediately felt his eyes fill and he coughed, 'that's ok I wanted to.'

Harry nodded and Draco felt his heart swell at the tiny movement. It was endearing and touching and heartbreaking. And Draco couldn't help but think that it was as if Harry was used to people leaving. Leaving him alone in this empty, depressing, shitty room. It was all he could do not to embrace Harry and press a hundred kisses on his face. His chest was starting to heave ever so slightly with barely controlled sobs that were slowly breaking through. He really ought to leave before he started to wail. That would leave a great lasting impression on Harry. NOT.

He whispered a goodbye and quickly turned away and walked out of the room. 

Once outside he drew in deep breaths and swallowed down his sobs before anyone saw – hoping to reach the toilet before he did. It was hard not to cry; difficult keeping in the tears. Maybe he could fall apart a little and then gather himself up again. 

He felt his shoulders slump as he reached the men's and pushed the toilet door open with his shoulder. It was better to let a few tears escape and get over it. That way you stopped the full-blown sobs that went on for ages he thought, as he grasped a hold of the sink with his head hanging low. 

The tightness in his chest gave way to the flood of emotion he had dammed up. He let it wash over him with its path of tears. He hadn't imagined that life could hurt so much. Hadn't really thought of life of being real till now. You didn't appreciate life at all till you hurt with the pain of it. And he did. Now.

Unbidden words crept through his mind as he glanced at himself in the small mirror above the sink. 

_'There will be a day when you will learn all about humanity and humility, Malfoy,' Neville said, his voice clear, his gaze defiant. 'And you'll be crying and all alone, mark my words.'_

And he did just that. Cried. All. Alone. For Harry. For himself. 

A few minutes later he drew in a lungful of air and blew his nose, straightening himself out. He looked like crap. Fuck it. Who gave a shit? He had cried, what of it? He walked out of the toilets and towards the reception where he could make out the lines of his professor's cloak.

His teacher took a look at his reddened eyes and gave him an unsympathetic glare. Draco glared back.

'Come along,' he said tightly and Draco followed him morosely to wherever he was being led. It turned out to be a small room with a few seats and a drinking fountain. A waiting room.

'Sit down,' he commanded and Draco sat.

'What's wrong with his eyes?' Draco asked as he sank down. The last of his tears had wedged in his throat and he tried to swallow around them and speak at the same time. ' I mean he can see all right can't he? He isn't going….' He left the rest of the sentence unsaid. He couldn't bear to say it.

'No,' his teacher said shortly. 'He isn't going blind. No need to get over dramatic. Calm yourself.'

'He looks so ill,' Draco said softly. 'I mean I knew. Obviously that he would be …. I mean.' He waved his hands uselessly, 'I just didn't imagine.. I didn't think of what he would _really_ look like. Is there any particular reason he looks the way he does or he is just recovering and looks…'

Professor Snape was sitting up rigidly and his dark eyes honed in on Draco's appealing ones. He paused for a moment and then spoke. 

'His eyes look the way they do because his magic is draining. The antidote is working very well as in, it is slowing down the surges of blood when the curse sets off. But the curse, finding its path blocked in that area, is now attacking more vehemently on what it can whilst Potter's body is still weakened. Wizards posses a lot of pure raw magic naturally. Some have it more in their fingers; usually those persons are quite adept at Charms. Some in their hearts - Healers. Some in the mind such as Professor Dumbledore.' 

His professor paused momentarily, 'and some, like Potter, specialise in what the Muggles loosely refer to as telekinesis or mind over matter and posses a lot of raw magic through their eyes. This is especially true of those particularly with green eyes. That is where his magic is most concentrated and so the curse is sapping it quite vigorously at this point, till the antidote blocks its path to that passage. 

His weakened magic is visually showing through his eyes. At the moment, if he had to, he could only do very basic magic with a wand, if that. It will return as he gets stronger and his eyes will resume their usual colour once again. But his magic will be out of kilter for a while whilst he recovers.'

Draco gave a small nod remembering Harry's wand on the cabinet. He probably had been told to try and do some simple spells so they could determine how much magic he had lost. How dreadful. 

He and wanted to run back to Harry at once. He wanted to say or do something a little more comforting than he had done. Bloody hell, he had sat around like a fucking melon. Why hadn't he asked more questions? Or God, something more. Why was he such a shit? What if Harry hated him and just couldn't be bothered to say anything? Perhaps he had been too ill to tell Draco exactly what he thought of him. 

Professor Snape got up, shooting an irritated look at Draco's slumped figure on the chair.

'Come now, Draco, we must leave.'

'Yeah all right,' Draco snapped and Professor Snape with a taunt jaw, stalked out in front of him. They walked back outside into the corridor and Draco turned to look back at the corridor that led to Harry's room. He bit his lip and vowed that next time he saw Harry, he would be better prepared and say and do something useful. Life was so shit sometimes. He was a prat sometimes. 

~*~

Later on that evening, Harry was sitting up in bed holding a metal pan under his chin. He had just vomited a few more mouthfuls and was waiting to see if another bout would ensue. His stomach gurgled and protested and he braced himself for another onslaught. But none came. He stared at the gloopy maroon coloured liquid for a moment and then reached for his wand. 

Hesitatingly he drew a deep breath and then with precise wrist action said, '_Evanesco_.'

Nothing happened. The blood remained. His shoulders wilted and he twisted slightly to put the metal dish back on the cabinet. Just then there was a soft knock on the door. He watched the door swing open and a light-brown head poked through, a strange and cautious smile decorating the features. Lupin. Harry looked on with a quiet countenance as his former professor approached him.

'Hello, Harry, sorry to drop in rather late but I just wanted to talk a few things over with you.'

Harry nodded.

Lupin's eyes darted to the dish at Harry's side. He peered into it and his lips thinned slightly. 'Uh so have you tried to use your wand today? Have you tried to clean the pan?'

Harry nodded.

'And?' Lupin asked.

Harry cleared his throat and then shook his head, 'it didn't work.'

Lupin nodded gravely and took his own wand out. He pointed it at the bloody pool, '_Evanesco_,' and the blood vanished immediately. He tucked his wand back in his robes and shifted his stance with a nervous gait. Harry's eyes caught the small fidgety movements. 

'We err...' Lupin began, 'think that it would be best if you return to school for the remainder of the term.'

Harry laid his head back on the pillows feeling worn-out and a little cold. He always felt shivery after he had been sick. He pulled the blankets up around him. 

Lupin shuffled closer to the bed and Harry could see his blurry robes to the left-hand side of him. The smell of the outside air that had followed Lupin inside, still lingered slightly. Air. There wasn't much air in this room, Harry thought. It was closed and stifling and stale. He wished his room had windows. There were no windows. He would have quite liked to sit outside and get a few gulps of fresh air. 

He had been allowed to get out of bed at the end of last week. Unassisted he had got as far as the end of the corridor and felt horribly out of breath, his legs shaking. He had been quickly ushered back into bed and told to take it easy. His body was very weak he had been told. He could feel the weakness filtering through him with every breath he took. It had woven through his body like an intricate thread, needling and striking his every muscle. 

Lupin was still talking and Harry hadn't been listening.

'—not sure what to do with you. So we thought that the Dursleys would have you for the summer as usual and you would be safer there, rather than anywhere else.'

Pause.

'—arry?'

Harry's eyes flickered slightly and lifted to see the small rough beard that grew on Lupin's chin. He concentrated on the short hairs and the smell of outside that was slowly disappearing. The smell of the hospital dimmed the visiting smells with surprising vigour and quickness. Though Draco had smelled nice. Draco had always smelled nice. 

'—right now whilst you are still weak, school would be the best place for you. There isn't anywhere else really that would be able to cater for your needs. Like Madam Pomfrey for instance. You'll still need the sleeping potions when you get out of here.'

Harry bit back a sigh and Lupin shifted on his feet.

'Harry? So what do you think?'

Harry gave a noncommittal shrug.

'I'll umm fill you in with more details later on if you would like. But uhhh….' Awkward pause. 'All right then. So goodbye.'

Harry watched as Lupin took his leave. The door quietly opened. A shuffle. The door shutting. Shut.

Harry felt his mouth fill once again with warm liquid and turned to his side and spat into another pan that was on the floor. The blood mixed with wads of saliva. He might have missed his goal and made a mess on the floor. He found he didn't really care. He swallowed the rest of the metallic taste sitting in his mouth and closed his eyes tightly - wishing he wasn't here. 

TBC…

**~*~******

**Karina**** blabbing**: I know you may have expected something else to happen- or Draco to have said or done something different/more. But this was the way I had always envisioned this chapter. A sort of anticlimactic feel to Draco's visit. Just like the way he felt! After all his build up and well…He wanted to say or do more, but it just didn't work out that way. Alas. :o( Harry is too having a very difficult time of it. I_n Chapter Ten- Harry is back at school. And __both boys will be in the same chapter- promise! Heehee___

Thank you to : - Brenna8, Luthien , Kristen , Yana5, Cloverleaf, AsheFarley, C. Night, Rowenna, malfoysnogger, SeparatriX, H_and_D_gurl, Hayley, eclecticity, silva star, destinywriters, sak , ruella, Sapphrine, Belle, Dragenphly, usually immaculate aristocrat , Faby, Bad-Azz-Slytherin + Chaos, Nikki, Liam JT Milne, fowler Nsow, Draco's Punk Rock Chick, esrinthly, Shinny, SlytherinSexGoddess, Chelsea, Gisela, Sarya, empiregirl, Sparkle Tangerine , Lady of Hogwarts, Dita P , SlytherinSexGoddess, dhvani, alranth, Jade Quinn, adventure diva, Diamond Angel, bear , Lady Ktulu FOR REVIEWING THE HERMIT.

Thank you to :- adarial ciao, Willowstar, owlpostagain, scarletangel1, mimi, saki, Diamond Angel FOR REVIEWING THE CHARIOT.

Thank so much to ;- Bad-Azz-Slytherin + Chaos, Sapphrine, Lady Phoenix Slytherin, Godlovesme, Dita P FOR REVIEWING WITH A KISS!!!


	9. Watching You

**Disclaimer: The magi****c****al world of Harry Potter was written by Miss JK Rowling! ****I'm just havin fun :o)******

**Thank you to my gorgeous lil beta ****Coffeecat**** for curing Draco's dry lips! ****H****eee******

_This Chapter is dedicated to _**_Chi _**_for being so cute! xxxx___

************

****

**Chapter Nine******

It was ten thirty at night, and Draco was sitting at the foot of the marble steps in the Entrance Hall. Waiting. He was getting good at this waiting game. He didn't like it, but he was definitely getting used to it. He had anticipated this all week. And it had been an incredibly shit week. He had been stressed about the exams; feeling the change of weather a little too much, restless nights. Yes, shit indeed. But tonight it was going to get better.

Harry was coming back to school tonight; Dumbledore had told him after Draco had pestered him incessantly for information. It seemed as if Harry's blood vomits had subsided and they thought it best for him to get out of the hospital and come back to classes for the last few weeks of term.

Draco was grateful that at least he would be able to spend some time with Harry before the term ended. He wasn't sure exactly how _much time_, but the fact that Harry would be under the same roof as him once again was a pleasing thought.

He lowered his chin into his hands and watched the huge oak door. It was good that Harry was arriving at a later hour. It would have been too much for him to have to deal with everyone all at once on his first night back. He wondered if Harry looked any better than he had last week. If his eyes had some colour back in them.

Harry's eyes were the most unnerving part of his appearance and Draco knew _this _would be what people would stare at as they looked at Harry. His eyes. Very few people knew of the curse and the students wouldn't realise that the way Harry looked was due to its hideous affects. For once, Draco was glad that Harry had Weasley and Granger. They could be places that he, Draco, could not. And, in spite of everything, Draco knew deep down that they were good friends to Harry. They cared about Harry and wouldn't let anything intentionally hurt him. At least Draco had that reassurance.

He tapped his foot impatiently on the stone floor. He was quite alone in the Entrance Hall. Curfew had passed so it wasn't likely that anyone would be wandering about now. Technically neither should he be out of his dorms but seeing Harry was more important than keeping to the school rules. He just hoped Granger and Weasley didn't have the same idea and come down to greet their friend. Draco would be severely pissed off if that were to happen. He glanced up the winding maze of stairs and looked around for any moving figures….No nothing.

He rubbed his face and then stretched out his legs in front of him. He was hoping to be able to at least say hello to Harry before he was taken up to his tower. It was going to be harder sneaking around here and there, to have a few precious moments with Harry alone. He fully expected that Harry wouldn't be sneaking right back; so any skulking around would have to be done by him and him alone. Draco cupped his face and stared at his shoes. He'd find a way.

A few minutes later he checked the time on his watch. It was ten forty five. He pushed his hands through his hair and got up, dusting himself off. He let out an involuntary yawn and leant against the banisters. Waiting. Five more minutes passed when he finally heard footsteps come up the stairs outside. He quickly advanced nearer to the door as it opened and his heart held its breath as he saw Professor Mcgonagall appear, shortly followed by Harry.

He wanted to rush forward but forced himself to walk slower at a steady pace.

'Hey,' he called out as Professor Mcgonagall shut the door behind Harry. Harry was now standing looking slightly awkward with a small bag in his hands. A wave of love literally poured over Draco and he bit his lip down hard. Harry was just beautiful, even in his awkwardness and sickness he was beautiful. Draco approached with an eager smile.

'Hey,' Harry said not quite meeting his eyes and Professor McGonagall's brows lifted higher. Draco moved closer and orchestrated his steps so that he was standing in between the Transfiguration teacher and Harry.

'So,' Draco said, quickly thinking of conversation. 'How was your journey?' He drunk in Harry's appearance and felt his heart ease a little on seeing a fully dressed and upright Harry. One looked immediately better standing up than lying down. As in the hospital, he was very pale and thin and his eyes were transparent, though he was wearing his glasses again. It was still discomforting to see his eyes like that but Draco kept his smile set on his face.

'The journey was fine thank you,' Harry answered politely, not lifting his gaze. His voice was a little rough but he seemed to be able to breathe a lot easier and talk at the same time.

Draco wondered if Harry wasn't looking at him because of his eyes. Maybe he had seen a mirror…. Draco deliberately kept his own on Harry's face and spoke directly to him. _Look up, darl__ing, it's okay_ he thought.

'It's really good to have you back,' he said gently and Harry finally looked up with a slightly surprised expression. Their eyes met and Draco felt himself go warm. He embraced Harry with his gaze and let his eyes do the talking. There wasn't much he could say with Mcgonagall standing over them.

'Thank you…' Harry said quietly. Draco inched a little closer and was happy to note that Harry didn't step backwards or give any sign of not welcoming Draco's salutations. He smiled widely and they both stood silently for a moment. Together.

'Mr Malfoy, I should really be getting Mr Potter up to his dormitory and settled in,' Professor Mcgonagall broke in.

_Bloody hell, bitch._ Draco thought irritably. No one could leave them alone for two seconds could they? That would be asking for too much wouldn't it?

'Oh yeah right, sure,' he said with a false grin. She swept past him and started towards the stairs. Harry pressed his lips together in an almost apologetic smile. Was that a smile? Draco looked carefully. It was a sort of tight-lipped smile that said ''sorry gotta go'', Draco was sure that was what it was.

He nodded, 'I'll see you. Goodnight.'

'Goodnight,' Harry replied and followed his house mistress up the stairs. Draco watched them as they made their way up. He saw Harry look down at him before he turned the corner and he let out a long breath. Yes, it was going to be better soon. It had to. Harry was back.

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**Watching You******

I find myself watching him all the time. Even if he isn't in front of me, I'm watching him. His face is permanently etched in my mind. I can see him when I close my eyes, when I open my eyes. I am continuously watching him.

During meal times, I can't swallow till I know that he is seated at his table. That he is eating too. That we are eating at the same time.

I've seen him on numerous occasions, when he is staring at nothing in particular. He stares away at nothing. I don't understand why no one else sees this. Or maybe they do and they don't say anything. I can't talk, I don't say much at all. Not much of significance anyhow.

I am a lot of things and I will be a lot more. But. There is one thing I am sure of, as certain as I am that there is a sun and a moon and that there is life around. I am certain and sure and definite that _I love him_. That is all I am. I think it's all I have become. Love for him. And that doesn't scare me. I welcome it because that is the _only_ thing of which I am sure.

More people are dying every day and the air is thick with strife still, but, all that has drifted away to make space for the fact that he is here again. I am not noticing much of what is happening in school. All I notice is him. I am looking at him, yet not directly, so no one can interfere in the gaze that I am projecting towards him.

He is expressionless. Most of the time. Yet I see tiny flickers of misery when he thinks no one is watching and my heart breaks for him. I will mend his heart one day as he will mend mine. Our hearts will mend together.

It is as if he has drawn inside of himself, all his expressions- all hidden inside of him – and outside there is nothing but a blank canvas. What is he thinking right now? His skin is covering his thoughts and needs and feelings – all hidden in skin. I have often wondered that the skin hides so much more than our blood and guts. It hides our heart – which is rarely ever shown.

The moments I can't see him, I look to his face that I have hidden inside of me. He is in me, and all of me and I think I am living just for him. In fact I am becoming thoroughly sure that my existence is all for him. Nobody knows this. I hide a lot under my skin also.

He is finishing breakfast now and so do I. He gets up and he walks out with his friends and I too get up from my seat. I have found the perfect distance that I can walk behind him without being noticed. I walk casually as if it is by accident that he is in front of me and I am behind him. I want to stay behind him, around him all the time. As long as I can see him, that's all I ask.

My every footstep is towards him. My every action is leading me to him. I think I am _obsessed_ in love, in him, I don't think I would have it any other way. I would live like this forever if the alternative was not to be with him at all. I would live like this. But this is my lowest point because I know that one day we will grow from this state. We will be higher.

We walk up the stairs and there is chatter in my ears and I incline my head, but I rarely seem to listen to anyone else's voice anymore. All I hear is my voice, in my head, of thoughts about him. His voice. When he speaks. A welcome melody to my ears that drowns out the cacophony around us.

I am keeping a close eye on him. I can't help it. I feel like a petrified parent watching over their young. I'm not quite sure how I got to this position but here I am. My heart trips if he so much as stumbles and I have the urge to run forward and catch him in my arms. Catch him in my arms so tightly so he knows that he won't ever fall. Not if I can help it. I can't let him fall again. I won't.

He is going down the hall now and I must go in another direction. We don't have the same class and I am forced to join my other class mates. Thankfully I am a good student. I learn easily and have a good penchant for memorising useless details. Studying usually comes easily and I sit there with a sullen expression on my face and automatically run through the motions of the lesson.

I see Theodore from the corner of my eye. We used to be friends once upon a time. I can't bring myself to care that we are no longer. It doesn't mean that much to me, perhaps it never did. That is most likely true.

The lesson has begun and ended and I pack away quickly. I make small talk and walk with my house mates. It is lunch time. And I'll see him again.

I'm not quite sure how to explain it, but I constantly feel like there is only me and him in the world. That we are together in a virtual glass house that stretches along with us wherever we go. That the rest of the world is humming around us and I can hear it and even live in it but I'm not a part of it anymore. I don't care much for it. I only care for him. That isn't healthy in its entirety I know but I don't waste much time thinking about such details.

Everything in my life has become about him. I worry about him. I think about him. It is hard to believe that before I was afraid of losing myself to him. I did not lose myself to him; I have found myself in him. I want him to find himself in me. I wish he would. I wish he could. But he doesn't see much; at least he doesn't seem to.

His eyes are closed like clear misty glass. You can't see behind them anymore, not like I used to be able to. His green eyes ran in depths into his soul; his new eyes have blocked all paths to his soul. My darling's eyes don't see. He will see again when the world is brighter for him. I will try and colour his world again. And his eyes will colour with life once more.

There he is. And we eat together again. He is brushing his fingers through his hair. Now he is propping his head in his hand as he picks at his dessert with his spoon. He seems to take a plate of afters; it seems to please those with whom he sits. But even from this distance, I can tell – he never finished what is on his plate. He probably doesn't want to eat anything sweet. Perhaps he is unable to taste it. Sweet. I wonder if the last sweet thing he tasted was the chocolate that melted against our lips. He was the last sweet thing I had tasted. He is the sweetest thing I know.

He is looking tense and I worry. I know I am frowning so I adjust my facial expression. I am doing that constantly. I want to keep my face a mask of what people see. What is going on inside of me is private and only for me to know. Me and him. I and he. He and I. I feel fiercely protective of my thoughts about him.

He is pushing away his plate. He gets up. I wipe my mouth with my napkin and also get up. I do not worry much to see if anyone else has noticed how I mirror his movements. I think I can act quite well and what people don't expect to see, they usually don't see.

Lessons separate us again. I'll see him in Potions. The only class I share with him. But not today. However, I do know what his last lesson of the day is, and when my last lesson finishes, I sprint out as gracefully as I can and run to him before he comes out of class. He is usually the last one out. He packs away very slowly, like he can't be bothered to gather his things or doesn't realise the lesson has ended. But that works fine with me. I'll get to escort him to wherever he is travelling.

I wait casually and watch from afar again. The door is open and most of his class mates have left. I see a flash of red hair and a tall lanky frame outside the door. Weasley is waiting for him to come out, as am I.

There he is. I walk a bit more near.

'I'm going to go to the library, Ron. To read.'

'You want me to come with you?'

'No, I'll see you later.'

I back away behind the wall slightly as he starts to come down the corridor. I step a foot inside an empty classroom and he walks past me. He hasn't seen me. I come out into the hallway again and see the flash of red hair disappear around the corner.

I turn away and follow him down the hall. We go to the library. He sits. I sit. I sit opposite him, so I can see him. He is alone, so am I. His eyes are downcast and his hair flops over his brows and brushes the tops of his glasses. The books are laid out in front of him but I am sure he is not meaning to read anything. He wants to be alone. This is his excuse.

A flash of grey appears beneath the black as he crosses his legs under the table. He is uneasy and shifts till he finds a position that he can sit in for at least an hour. I've seen him do it. Before he always had constant movement about him. A finger tapping, a sigh, a leg; something. Now, the only movement is of the pages he is turning and not reading. He doesn't see, how can he read?

More than anything I want to go over to him and maybe drop a kiss on his forehead, stroke his cheek, squeeze his hand. But I do this all from a distance. I have imagined many scenes throughout the day when I am touching him. I have touched him; I know what it feels like. I want to know what it feels like again. But whilst I can't, I relive those memories constantly.

I have my own books open in front of me and I let myself take comfort in his presence while I read a chapter or two, my eyes flickering to his face every now and again.

No one has approached him since he has been in the library. Not many do. They seem scared of him and I hate them all for it. They talk and whisper as he walks past but I honestly think he doesn't even notice. Anymore. He is living each day in whatever world the confines of his mind allow him.

He seems unreachable yet I ache to reach him. He seems untouchable yet that is all I want to do. He seems unapproachable yet I gravitate towards him. It isn't his fault and I want to love him openly. But this doesn't seem the time or place. I am worried to startle him or make any gestures that may alarm him or confuse him or hurt him. I can not bear for him to hurt. Yet I know he does. Is.

I think an hour has passed because he shifts now. His elbow drops off the table and he shifts his face into his other hand. I get up. The library is relatively quiet. A lot of the students are outside enjoying the dying sun. The weather has improved greatly, suddenly, as it always does.

He doesn't look up to see me approaching. I clear my throat.

Now he looks up.

His expression is fixed and there doesn't seem to be much change in the course of the day. I haven't seen him smile once since he has been back. I would freeze in December by standing naked in the Great Lake, just so I could see the small dimple that appears in his cheek when he smiles. I hope I will see it again one day. I plan to. I will.

But right now, there is no hint of a smile, there is no hint of a frown or a grimace. There is no hint of much expression at all. He is still looking up at me with a blank look.

'Hi,' I say.

'Hi,' he replies and then hesitatingly lowers his head back.

I swallow and then bend down so I am lowered next to him, my face parallel to the surface of the table.

He looks at me and I smile. I peer at the book, 'what are you reading?'

He stays silent for a moment and then says, 'Charms.'

I nod, I think I look interested enough for him to think I am querying on his reading material. But all I want is to get close enough to breathe him in. I am glad that he at least does not shy away from me.

'If you need any help catching up, I can…' I trail off looking up at him. He looks down at me. His eyes are pale and empty behind the thin shield of the glass.

''I'm ok with it. I'm just revising. I can take the written exams you know…what's left of them…' he trails off uncertainly and then shrugs ever so slightly. 'I don't need any help but thanks for asking.'

I nod. My ankles and knees begin to ache a little. I must look a little ridiculous crouched down like this. I don't care. He is worth it.

I breathe out and he turns away towards his book again, his fingers running up alongside the edge of the fine parchment. I stand up again. He closes the book and reaches over for his bag that is sitting on the table next to him. I am still standing as he starts to put away his things.

He lifts his head and looks up at me again. He always now looks right _at_ me I notice. He isn't looking at everyone like that. He isn't worried about my reaction towards him anymore. He knows I know. That he _can _look at me. I am so glad. I smile at him and nod again. Not quite sure why but I do – again. I move back to give him a little space as he seems about to get up.

He does.

And he is standing in front of me. His special smell has come back to him, the sweet familiar smell that I immediately define as him. It was the clinical smell of the hospital that overpowered him; his sickness had been over powering him then. But now there is evidence that he is getting better.

My throat hurts and my arms want to wrap themselves around him so badly it's all I can do to keep from crying out loud. He is so near, yet I can't touch him. I move back another step and he moves forward. He slings his bag over his shoulder and he regards me with a quizzical look. I can feel his heat bump along mine. We are standing so close and I want to protect him with my closeness. The heat of my body surrounding him and shielding him. I wish I could. I wish it would.

'Bye then,' he says now.

I return his farewell with a tiny crack of a smile. I feel like weeping. Yet I am soaring high. Being so close to him always has dizzying affects on me. My face is hot now, and I can feel the warmth rise up my body. My cheeks are hot and my fingertips are burning. I feel a little out of control and I like it. Perhaps I am floating, maybe levitating slightly on a euphoric high by just being with him. _My love. _But my feet are still sat on the ground.

I feel whole. This moment. It's just me and him. He is my hope of what I will be with him. He is my dream of what our lives will be like in the future. He is everything. I might be slightly madly in love but I think it's wonderful. I can't be near him and not be moved. He moves me in every way a person can be moved.

He is ready to leave and has an unsure look on his face as I haven't given my consent for him to leave. Or that is what I understand? Because he hasn't moved. He looks uncomfortable now and I step back further.

'Bye,' I say finally and he nods then and walks away.

And I am still standing. Right there. Because the air hasn't quite shifted yet and I can still feel him here with me. Finally his smell and the lingering affects of his presence vanish and I go back towards the Slytherin house. I'll see him at dinner. And there isn't that long to go till then.

I put away my things and join in with the conversation around me in the common room. I have mastered the technique of talking to others whilst I think about him. As if my mind is divided and I am able to do both simultaneously. It is my turn for Prefect duty. I admonish a few younger students for magic in the corridors and dangerous pranks in the dorm rooms.

It is dinner time and I walk with my housemates to the Great Hall.

He is already sitting at the table. And I eat dinner with him.

Pansy is talking about something; I think she is talking to me.

'….. I can't think why he ran away from me,' she is saying.

I keep my eyes as casually as I can on his table,' try looking in the mirror,' I say automatically. I think she makes a gasping noise but I hide a smile in my mind as I watch him run his fingers through his hair.

I think he crawled into my heart when I wasn't looking. And now he lives there. I think I will die if he ever leaves. I won't let him leave. Ever.

**TBC…******

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**Karina dithering:** I know, it wasn't a _typical_ chapter but think of it as a bridge to Chapter Ten hee

P. S --I'm sorry :o( I know the update gap is once again quite big and I know sometimes some of you say that you had to go back and refresh your memory and read the last few chapters again, but I always write and load when I can. I can't guarantee updates will be faster etc. I do try--- my story wants to be told! It will – its just taking it time getting there…poo I hope you liked it a little bit :o) 

Thank you to : silva star, Diamond Angel, SeparatriX, eclecticity, Faby, Brenna8, esrinthly, Lily Michelle, Bad-Azz-Slytherin Chaos, Rowenna7, C. Night, mimi , Sapphrine, Belle, tsubasagahoushi , Tuzz, Draco's Punk Rock Chick, tsuzukuu, Luck Marie, Godlovesme, ura, Gwaeren, rosedragon, Jean, Desertrain, SlytherinSexGoddess, D EDMUN, Shui-Wing0, Marshes to Banks, Chi7890, EdenMalfoy017, Stéphanie --For Reviewing The Hermit

Thanks to : Luck Marie, Tuzz, ura, no one, SatanicRebel666, EdenMalfoy017, Chi7890, Nathan -- For Reviewing The Chariot

And….. thank you to : D EDMUN, EdenMalfoy017, Chi7890 --For Reviewing With A Kiss****


	10. Unravelling

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling wrote HP and she owns it and has all the pretty rights to it n' stuff.**

**Karina aheming: I know, I know, Blaise is boy! Hehee BUT Blaise will remain a GIRL in my fic. I started this fic last year and at the time obviously you have to make your own assumptions about things and characters when there is no canon evidence. I always thought Blaise would be a sexy girl – he is in fact a sexy boy till JK says otherwise with a damning description at some point. Lol But so you know, I won't be making Blaise have a gender crisis or a sex change! It is a girl in my Chariot Universe! giggle**

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**p.s If you hate this chapter, then it's probably my fault and if you like it then it's thanks to my beta Coffeecat! She gave me a shove and made me buy Draco balls. Poor thing, for a second I had left them behind dangling somewhere… hehee**

**p.p.s This chapter is LONG!! honest**

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**Chapter Ten - Unravelling**

The end of the summer term was fast approaching. Too fast for Draco's liking. Now that Harry was back he wanted the time to go slower so that he could value every moment he had in Harry's presence.

The weeks prior to Harry's return had been torturous and now the days were speeding by at an alarming pace. Speeding by as he watched Harry surrounded by his friends; watched Harry being invited on countless afternoons by the gamekeeper, watched Harry generally. Once again he loathed everybody else who had the freedom to go up to Harry and converse with him, whilst he, Draco, _again_ had to step back and watch from afar.

He sighed now as he hovered on his broom in the Quidditch field whilst practising with his team mates. The final match was to be between Ravenclaw and Slytherin on Saturday and the Slytherin team was determined to win.

For the first time in ages, they had a very good chance of capturing the cup. However, the atmosphere in school had dampened the joy. And, as an extra blow for Draco, the knowledge that Harry would not be supporting him like the last time when they had been together. Draco wasn't expecting any congratulatory kisses this time round….. His mind drifted momentarily as he let himself sink into more pleasant memories.

A minute later he was jolted out of his daydream as the gold winged ball flew past him. He rushed after it and vowed to win this match for himself. He had to. And you never knew, Harry might come and watch and perhaps even congratulate him… somehow. It was an important match. It meant a lot. He clasped his hand around the fluttering ball and soared back down to the ground. He wanted to win. It was only fair that he won the match, at least after everything. He deserved to win.

He made his way back to the changing rooms with Greg and Vincent. He had a free period next lesson. Weasley and Granger often, along with Harry, studied in one of the vacant classrooms on the first floor at this time. He took a quick shower and began to dress back into his uniform. Slipping his tie around his neck he caught sight of the clock on the wall. He stared at it for a moment as he processed his thoughts. If he hurried he still had time… He jammed his feet into his shoes, and grabbed his things. Yelling out to Vincent over his shoulder he said that he wanted to revise for a while. He didn't wait for a reply as he rushed outside. Within seconds he was running across the grounds towards the entrance doors.

A few minutes later, slightly out of breath, he skidded into the still empty classroom. He threw open his bag and pulled out various parchments and quills. Laying them out onto a desk, he then grabbed a stool and sat down, catching his breath back slowly. He smoothed back his hair and grabbed a book from the shelf behind him. He opened it on a random page and picked up his quill. The ticking of the clock on the wall told him it was eleven thirty.

Five minutes later he heard the sounds of footsteps approach the classroom. He had shut the door behind him and purposefully sat in the back row. Voices now accompanied the footsteps. Weasley, Granger… no voice that belonged to Harry but Draco was aware of Harry's presence on the other side of the door. He was with them. Draco was certain. A second later his expectations were confirmed.

The door opened and in traipsed Granger with Weasley's large feet plodding behind, and then Harry. The door shut and sure enough…

'What the _hell _are you doing here, Malfoy?' came Weasley's surprised voice that quickly turned angry and then accusing.

'None of your business, Weasel,' replied Draco loftily. He smirked at Weasel's outraged expression.

'Well…' Granger looked about the room and then back at Draco.

'Let's go, Hermione,' Weasley said resentfully. 'There must be somewhere _else_ we can go. Somewhere where HE isn't there.' He looked at his girlfriend with a hopeful expression and she bit her lip, looking hesitant.

'But the books I need for the final exam are here. We're not allowed to remove them from the room…' she trailed off, clutching her bag against her whilst looking at the various shelves that adorned the room.

'Malfoy….' Weasley turned to him, all long legs and lanky arms. 'Leave', he commanded.

'_Sod off, Weasel_,' Draco spat out. ' _I_ was here first. Why don't _you_ leave?'

He shot a glance at Harry who was still standing quietly by the door. Either he was choosing to not partake purposefully or else he didn't really care and hadn't really noticed what was transpiring.

Weasley glared at Draco and then shook his head. 'Hermione….' he began in a pleading tone.

'_Ron_,' she said with great emphasis, her hand touching her boyfriend's lightly.

Draco snorted and then chuckled and Weasley spun his face at him, looking flushed.

'Ok,' Weasel relented. ' But just for…'

'Oh no you don't, Weasel,' Draco interrupted. 'Get out,' he said rudely.

And sure enough, as Draco predicted, Weasley tightened his fists. 'We can stay here if _we_ want to stay. If _Hermione_ wants to study here she can,' he stared fiercely at Draco and strode to the nearest desk, banging his things down loudly. Granger cast a hostile look towards Draco before looking back at Harry.

'Harry, it won't be for long… is that all right?'

Harry shrugged indifferently and moved towards the front desk. 'It's fine,' he replied and Draco smiled inwardly.

He knew Harry wouldn't oppose his presence. It was funny how Granger and Weasel were so oblivious. Weasley harrumphed a few times making sure he made as much noise as possible before settling down. Draco in reply clucked his tongue in mock frustration and Granger pointedly glared at him before removing a few choice books from the shelves.

A few minutes later they had settled down and were quietly studying in an awkward silence. Though Draco was hardly studying; he was doodling on his parchments whilst sneaking surreptitious looks at Harry's back. Harry's head was bowed. He looked away and saw Granger's head come up, catching his eye. She gave him a pinched look and he made a face back, mimicking her expression. She narrowed her eyes before looking away and he sniggered.

Weasley turned around to see what he was laughing at and Draco smiled at him nastily in return. He exhaled a great big sigh and shuffled closer to his girlfriend protectively. Draco rolled his eyes. Weasley was more than welcome to Granger. Both of them were equally as horrific as one another. Draco let his eyes wander on Harry again. What on earth was he reading with such fascination? Draco wondered. Draco couldn't believe that Harry had taken last week's exams. It seemed ridiculous to expect Harry to even pass any of them, but he guessed that the teachers just wanted Harry to occupy himself with something.

Twenty minutes later the clock chimed in the distance and Granger sighed, 'all right, let's pack away for lunch. Harry?'

Harry looked up as if startled out of a trance and turned around. He nodded and began to gather his things. Draco stared at the open page in front of him uneasily. Would it be too obvious if he also started to pack away? Would it seem as if he was listening to what Granger had been saying and thus agreeing with her if he packed away?

He was just debating what to do when he suddenly saw Harry double over in the aisle. His bag dropped with a loud clatter and his books spilled out as he fell onto his knees gagging. Draco was out of his seat in a shot and on the floor with Harry in a second.

Harry heaved and a great gush of dark purple blood fell from his lips. He made another retching noise and threw up another load. Thick clots of dark, dark blood. Tears filled his eyes as he heaved again. Draco instinctively cupped his hands under Harry's chin catching the purplish, black mixture into his palms. Harry's lips paled and he looked waxy with a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. Shit, he looked as if he was about to faint. He gagged again and a trickle of blood slid from the corner of his lips. He was hunched over and panting shallowly, his whole body shaking but the blood had stopped spattering for now.

'Is there anymore?' Draco asked. There was a gasp and movement around him but all that mattered right now was Harry. He didn't really care that Granger and Weasley were witnessing the moment. Harry was distressed.

'Do you feel like you need to throw up more?' he asked gently, leaning in towards Harry's face. His hands were still cupping the blood that was now starting to trickle out from in between his fingers.

Harry shook his head dimly. Draco quickly let the blood fall onto his lap and wiped his hands onto his cloak, the deep blood smearing across the cloth. His arms wound themselves around Harry and he drew the black head near to his chest.

'It's all right,' he crooned soothingly. 'You're going to be all right.'

He peered down anxiously into Harry's face. He looked dazed, as if he were in shock, his body sagging heavily into Draco's arms. Draco had to get him into the infirmary. He murmured softly, 'Harry? I'm going to take you to the hospital wing, all right? Let's get up, ok?'

Harry didn't respond and continued to stare blankly at the floor. Draco moved to get up and drew Harry up with him.

'Come on,' he urged, still keeping his arm around Harry's shoulder. He wiped the blood from Harry's chin. Blood dried so quickly and a red stain remained stubbornly on Harry's skin.

He heard Weasley sputter and gurgle and Granger had her mouth open in horrified astonishment. Draco ignored them. Fuck, this wasn't exactly the way he had planned to come out but too bad. Harry came first. He would deal with them later. He led Harry outside and Harry walked with him wordlessly. It didn't look like he was aware of his surroundings at all. In traumatised silence, he followed Draco. His eyes were blank and dead, as if his soul had been transported into another plane. Perhaps he was reliving his horrors in a flashback and was numbed into compliance. Either way, Draco was feeling frantic and his chest was tight with worry.

Fortunately, the hospital wing wasn't far and by sheer luck they didn't meet anyone in their path. Perhaps Granger and Weasley were following them but he didn't look back to see if they were. He might have heard Weasley calling out, but he didn't pay attention. He knocked once on the door and entered. The bright sun streamed through the wide windows onto the parade of white, empty beds.

'Madam Pomfrey?' he called out into the unoccupied room.

Madam Pomfrey came rushing out from a corner room and quickly came to their side as soon as she saw Harry.

'What happened?' she asked urgently, as Draco steadied Harry by linking their arms together.

'He threw up,' Draco told her. Madam Pomfrey nodded and motioned them into a small private room. He led Harry towards the bed and Madam Pomfrey closed the door behind her.

'Let's get him up on the bed shall we,' she said moving past Harry. Harry's eyes were blindly staring ahead and it seemed as if he hadn't heard the nurse's words.

'I think he's in shock,' Draco said. He gently pushed at Harry so he would sit down on the bed.

'Mr. Potter?' Madam Pomfrey asked Harry as he sat woodenly on the bed. 'Can you lie down please?'

Harry said nothing. Draco looked at him anxiously and Madam Pomfrey tightened her lips. She looked behind her at a cabinet and bustled over to it, taking out a small glass and a potion.

Draco stroked Harry's arm, trying to comfort him in some small way.

'Drink this up, Mr. Potter,' Madam Pomfrey held the glass near to Harry's lips. Harry didn't move to sip it. Draco reached for the glass in Madam Pomfrey's hand and pressed it in towards Harry's mouth. He bent down to Harry's eye level and looked into the unseeing gaze.

'Harry, drink this down all right?' He leaned in closer and put his arm around Harry's shoulder. He squeezed it gently as Harry cracked open his lips enough for Draco to pour the potion into his mouth.

Madam Pomfrey nodded approvingly and took the empty glass placing it back on the cabinet.

'Mr. Potter, can you lie down for me?' she repeated but Harry remained unresponsive.

Draco tightened his arms around Harry and applied light pressure as he encouraged Harry to lie down. Gentle persuasion went a long way. 'Lie down, it's ok,' he said softly and Harry lay back against the pillow obediently. Madam Pomfrey gave another small nod of approval along with a reproving facial expression. She wasn't used to patients disobeying her requests.

Harry blinked heavily as his eyelids began to drop. He was trying to resist the sleep inducing potion.

'It's ok, Harry, go to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up,' Draco whispered.

Harry looked at him drowsily and Draco carefully removed his glasses. Harry let him without uttering a word.

'I'll be right here when you wake up. I'm not going to leave your side. Promise.' He tenderly stroked Harry's hair and said, 'get some rest.'

Harry took one last look at him and then closed his eyes. A minute later he was sleeping peacefully.

'That was fast acting,' Draco said as he looked around for a chair.

'Mmm,' Madam Pomfrey murmured as she came back. 'It is a mixture of Arnica, Vervain, Bach and sleeping draught. It will help with the shock and calm him when he wakes up.'

Draco nudged his chair close to Harry and smoothed some stray black strands back. He smiled sadly at Harry's peaceful expression. It was nice to see his face without all the tension around his mouth and forehead.

'I should tell Professor Dumbledore what has happened,' Madam Pomfrey said interrupting his thoughts. 'Mr. Malfoy, thank you for your help…'

'I'm not leaving,' Draco told her firmly. _Fucks sake, everyone was always obsessed with him leaving all the time._ Well, he wasn't going to leave.

Madam Pomfrey opened her mouth to disagree and Draco cut in again. 'I know, you want to examine him and keep him away from noise so he rests. I know that and I know you won't allow him any guests today but I'm still not going anywhere. You can't make me. Besides I help calm him down. I think that much is apparent.' Draco lifted his head defiantly and Madam Pomfrey curled her lip but didn't speak any further.

'Very well. At least step aside so I can take a look at him.'

Draco moved back to the wall and Madam Pomfrey drew a curtain around Harry. Draco turned to look out of the window. A minute later she muttered and he turned back. Harry's shoes were removed and his cloak and jumper were off along with his tie.

'I'll be back soon,' she said and walked out of the room.

Ten minutes later, Dumbledore and Professor Snape arrived. His housemaster gave him a dour look as he laid eyes on Draco.

'Well, Mr. Malfoy, Madam Pomfrey told me that you were the one to bring Harry to the hospital wing,' Dumbledore said, looking over Harry's sleeping figure with a considering expression.

'Yeah,' Draco answered back. 'He was standing up one second and the next he was on his knees throwing up.'

'What colour was the blood?' Professor Snape enquired as he inspected various vials upon the cabinet.

Draco looked down at himself and his hands. They were once again covered in Harry's blood. 'Uhh, well it was dark. Really dark. Not like before where it was quite scarlet. This time it was nearly black,' he shrugged not knowing what kind of information they specifically needed from him.

However, Dumbledore nodded knowingly. His eyes were a thoughtful blue behind the glinting spectacles and a small frown creased his brows as he ran a fingertip over his mouth. 'It appears as if the curse has at last left him. Professor Snape?'

'Perhaps,' Professor Snape said simply, 'though it would be best to keep him in for another few days just to be sure…'

Dumbledore nodded, and exhaled heavily as if he had lightened a huge load from upon his shoulders. 'I should inform Remus. I won't be long.' He nodded his departure and glided out of the room. Madam Pomfrey went out after him.

'Professor?' Draco looked up at his housemaster. 'You think the curse has broken?'

Professor Snape was standing stiffly at Harry's side looking down at him with an inscrutable expression.

'The antidote was acting like a plug if you will,' he said slowly. 'Whatever direction the curse was giving the blood inside Potter, the antidote was working in reverse of that. Stopping the flow of blood. Potter hasn't bought up any blood for a time now so we know the antidote to be working. We weren't sure what final sign we would be given to signify the end of the curse but dark black blood points in the way of stale blood that has clotted and gathered. As the curse broke, the plug was released and the lasting affects of the curse came through. I think it is over.'

'So,' Draco asked anxiously, 'he'll begin to get better now? His magic will return? His eyes? He'll feel stronger?'

'Yes, in time, but it won't be an overnight recovery.'

Draco nodded, 'how long do you think he'll have to stay here?'

'Four to five days to be sure,' Professor Snape replied. 'We are treading uncharted ground here. No known wizard has lived through such a curse and this is the first time an antidote has been brewed and seemingly worked. We can't know exactly what to expect.'

'But you think it _has_ worked?' Draco persisted.

'Perhaps. Time will tell.'

That was probably the best answer Draco would get from the potions master so he nodded. A moment passed and the sallow-faced wizard stood by the door rigidly.

'I saw Mr Weasley and Miss Granger in the hallway outside. I can only guess as to what you have done. Am I right?'

Draco shrugged carelessly and the wizard's eyes narrowed.

'It isn't wise, Draco. I cannot believe that you fully comprehend what you are entangling yourself in with Potter.'

'I don't care,' Draco snapped impudently. 'I don't care if they know. He was sick and I had to go to him. I wasn't going to pretend that I didn't care, all right?' He finished angrily.

His housemaster's lips pursed, 'you are foolish, Draco. I could never imagine that you would behave like this.' His eyes flickered on Harry and then at Draco before he swept out of the room.

Draco felt himself bristle with resentment and then his eyes fell on Harry and the anger left him. He didn't give a shit about what people thought, he loved Harry, it was as simple as that and Harry needed him right now. Draco wouldn't forget the trusting look Harry had given him before he closed his eyes and fell asleep. No matter how strained things were between them with unresolved words, Harry felt comfortable in Draco's presence. He trusted him in some fashion and that was what mattered. That counted. He kissed Harry's forehead and felt his chest ache with emotion.

He watched Harry for a few minutes and then his eyes wandered. It was lunch time. Granger and Weasley were outside waiting for news on Harry. Waiting to see Harry. Waiting to see just what the fuck Draco was doing inside with Harry. He knew that Madam Pomfrey wouldn't allow any visitors just yet to see Harry so he knew he was safe enough inside the room. For now. But that didn't matter either. He would deal with Weasley and his annoying girlfriend. It was only a matter of time anyway. It would have happened sooner or later. Though, yet again, his life was careening onwards on its own accord. He smiled mirthlessly; like anything ever went the way he planned it anyway. Why should this time be any different?

He had sat with Harry for about an hour when Dumbledore came back in as did Madam Pomfrey. Draco resolutely refused to budge and he was a little surprised that Dumbledore hadn't insisted he remove himself from the room. Either way he was a little grateful to the old wizard, though he didn't show it.

He continued watching Harry sleep for quite a while. A few hours might have passed. He might have dozed off himself at some point. But now he could see Harry stir. He pulled his chair closer and saw Harry's eyes flicker open. They did and he blinked for a moment, not quite registering his surroundings.

'Hey,' Draco said, drawing his attention.

Harry looked at him and then coughed dryly. Draco automatically came nearer and laid a warm hand on Harry's arm. Harry swallowed and parted his lips. His brows creased and he appeared to be having difficulty swallowing.

'Would you like some water?' Draco asked.

Harry nodded and began to lift himself up when Draco quickly reached under his head.

'It's ok let me help…' He cradled Harry's head in his arm and smiled as Harry gave him a wide-eyed look.

'It's all right,' he said and twisted over, picking up a straw and putting it in the glass before he brought it near to Harry's lips.

Harry sipped the water from the straw, all the while looking at Draco with an odd expression. Like he didn't know quite what to think. He looked so sweet blinking at Draco. He was so cute. Even now. Draco felt so tempted to kiss him as he lay in his arms. But he didn't. He waited whilst Harry drank his fill.

A moment later, Harry moved back slightly and the straw slipped from his lips.

'Enough?'

Harry nodded and Draco put the glass away and then lowered Harry's head back onto the pillow.

'Thanks,' Harry said quietly, his eyes searching Draco's face with a vague puckered brow.

'That's okay,' Draco replied softly.

He was leaning quite close and they gazed at each other without saying another word for a while. Finally he saw Harry's pupils shift as he now looked around the room. The look of understanding where he was, was quick. That resigned, tired look taking over his face.

He closed his eyes tightly and whispered, 'how long?'

Draco sighed, 'uhh, a few days I think. Four or five perhaps. They just want to make sure that everything is all right. I mean they think the curse has broken.'

Harry's eyes flew open and regarded him closely, 'but, um, Dumbledore will fill you in better than I could.' He shrugged one shoulder slightly and Harry nodded.

'You're going to get better now….you will…' Draco said as Harry suddenly looked so worn out.

'You can go back to sleep if you want….' he offered.

Harry opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. Draco leant back in his chair and puffed out a quiet breath.

'Have you been here all this time?' Harry then asked.

Draco nodded.

'Thanks and, uh, thanks for you know…' Harry trailed off and Draco looked at him surprised and touched.

'That's all right, Harry. I ….umm …' What else should he say? Could this be his opportunity to make things right again? Although he knew that Harry was talking about what had happened today rather than a few months ago.

But Harry had been through a lot and once again it didn't seem right to start unburdening his guilt and repenting.

'I might try and sleep,' Harry told him putting a stop to any further thoughts Draco was having in his mind.

'Ok,' Draco responded gently. He patted Harry's arm and then got up. 'See you soon.'

He resisted the urge to drop another kiss on Harry's forehead and retreated out of the room. His heart felt a little lighter than it had for a while now. The curse had been lifted most likely and he was making small steps towards his and Harry's reconciliation. Things had to get better… didn't they? But as he walked past the rows of beds and approached the door, his heart plunged again. He knew what he had to confront now without a doubt. There was no turning back.

No sooner had Draco stepped outside the door, when Weasley fell upon on him like a large animal getting ready to attack. His red face was fuming and his hands were tightly balled into fists.

'Just what the _hell_ is going on, Malfoy?' He spat out, his face frothing near to Draco's.

Draco shoved him away.

'Get lost, Weasley, let me at least step away from the door,' he snarled as Weasley tripped back a few steps.

'Screw you, ferret,' the red-haired boy yelled angrily. 'I want to know just what you're playing at and why have YOU been inside all this time whilst WE have been made to wait OUTSIDE!'

'Ron…' came Granger's warning voice from behind her overgrown boyfriend.

'I don't know, Weasley,' Draco sneered. 'Maybe Pomfrey doesn't trust you around all that medicine.'

It was a childish dig but Weasley usually brought out the worst in Draco. He rushed towards Draco and stopped only when his girlfriend pulled back on his cloak.

'Ron, calm down....' She was looking at her boyfriend anxiously and then shot Draco an unpleasant look.

'Hermione, 'Weasley ranted. 'We've been sat out here for hours!! While HE has been inside all this time with Harry? What the hell do you think you're doing? What the HELL is going on???'

_What the hell is going on?_ Here goes nothing; Draco thought quickly shifting his mind into gear.

'How come we weren't allowed to see Harry and YOU were???' Weasley carried on shouting.

Draco walked away from the door with Weasley snapping at his heels. If this had to be done, at least they could try and do it without an audience present like their last meeting. He went into the first classroom he saw and opened the door. He edged into it, finding it empty with the two Gryffindor's following him closely.

'Well if you _must_ know, fine, but I wasn't exactly planning on you finding out,' he said shutting the door behind them.

'Find out? Find what out? What are you talking about? You better tell me, Malfoy, this minute or I'll….'

'You'll what?' Draco shot out. 'You better watch your mouth,' Draco said in a warning tone.

Weasley gnashed his teeth together giving Draco a most hateful look. He looked like his head was about to explode.

'Find what out, Malfoy?' Granger said in a calm but forced voice. She was looking at Draco with a strange expression and Draco wondered what she was thinking. Shewas rather perceptive; usually anyway and the way Draco had rushed to comfort Harry probably hadn't gone unnoticed.

'Find out about me and….' He was about to say Harry but thought better of it, 'Potter.'

'Find out WHAT?' Weasley bellowed. 'What have you got to do with Harry? You're a bloody _Death Eater_! Why……'

As soon as the words had left Weasley's mouth, Draco swung his wand out and aimed at the still yelling mouth. At once Weasley was thrown back off his heels and landed onto his bottom in a shocked bump. Granger let out a scream and rushed to his side and Draco glared down at him, his eyes glittering menacingly. Weasley had his hand holding a now scarlet cheek and his mouth gaped like shocked fish.

'My _name_ is Draco Malfoy,' Draco said in a cold tone. 'If you _must_ call me anything then it's Malfoy, but if I hear you call me a _Death Eater_ again I won't care about the consequences, I'll just hex your sorry arse till you bleed.'

Granger and Weasley gazed at him in stunned silence and Draco took a step back and put away his wand. He hadn't meant to snap like that and had probably unveiled more hidden emotion than he would have liked, but hearing those words after everything made him go blind with rage.

Suddenly he felt himself being thrown backwards against the wall and Granger cry out, 'Ron!'

There was a distinct smell of burnt cloth in the air as Draco felt his shoulders slump down the wall. He caught his breath back and watched Weasley advancing towards him with wild eyes. Draco pressed his lips together, getting ready for another stinging reply on Weasley's person, when Granger stepped in with a concerned look on her face.

'_Stop it_,' she cried out placing herself in between her boyfriend and Draco. 'Just stop it. Let's just talk about this civilly. Hexing one another is not going to achieve anything.' She turned around and took the wand out of her boyfriend's hand and gently pushed him towards a chair.

Weasley glared at him and then folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head. Draco sighed deeply. He sniffed the air around him. Was he on fire? He took off his cloak and could see a small scorch mark in the middle. He gave a disgusted look at Weasley as he too sat down into the nearest chair.

'I should report you for initiating that Malfoy,' Granger spoke in a controlled voice, though Draco could hear the angry tremor resounding on the edges.

'I guess you _could_,' Draco met her eyes challengingly. 'Then I guess I _could _report Weasley for personal damage and name calling.'

'Personal damage? Name calling?' Weasley snorted. 'yeah right.' Weasley's voice dripped with loathing. Which essentially was fine with Draco, as the red–haired boy mostly repulsed Draco to the point of nausea.

Granger cleared her throat. 'So, _Malfoy_,' she emphasised his name sharply. 'What is it that you meant about you and Harry…?'

Which brought the question to hand…. him and Harry.

'We have an understanding of, uhhh,' he coughed and shrugged, 'sorts.'

'_What?_' Weasley sat up in his chair like he had been jolted with a power stick. 'What the hell are you talking about? Again.'

'Potter and I are...' Draco said, whilst watching Granger's face look more and more confused.

'You and Harry are what?' Weasley yelled out irritated. 'You and Harry are _what_?' He repeated. '_Friends_?' He laughed harshly with an incredulous look. 'You think you're_ friends_ with Harry?'

'Well…' Draco replied cryptically. Weasley shook his head again, a deep angry frown decorating his reddened face. Granger looked pensive as if she were assessing the information Draco was giving them.

'This is ridiculous.' Weasley said heatedly. 'Harry hates you! He hates you! He would NEVER be friends with you!' He leant forward in his chair, his hands gripping the sides tightly. Draco could just imagine that his hands were itching to reach for his wand again; Neanderthal that he was. 'What did you DO to him?!!' he yelled. 'What was all _that_ about? _What game are you playing?!_'

'Ron, please stop yelling,' Granger said trying to calm her hideous boyfriend down. 'Do you want people to come and see what's happening? Harry is right down the hallway. Let's just _calm_ down and talk about this.'

'Calm down? There is no calming down.' Weasley said angrily, falling back into his seat. 'I have been sitting around for hours for an explanation,' Weasley carried on with contempt.

Granger turned towards Draco, her face looking apprehensive, 'just say what you were going to say, Malfoy.'

Draco looked at her carefully and Weasley mumbled angrily, kicking his foot about on the floor. 'Harry would never be friends with you EVER. I don't know what you're getting at but you are NOT friends with Harry.'

Draco bit the inside of his cheek feeling himself get more and more wound up by the second.

He sighed then and thought it best just to say it. Say the words quickly and the revelation would be out there, soaking into the air, mingling with the two Gryffindor's disbelieving breaths.

'I'm the one who found him _that _day….I saw what happened and called for help….'

'Huh?' Weasley said looking utterly flummoxed. As if it were the last thing on earth that he had been expecting to hear.

However, Granger came nearer to Draco, her face looking solemn with grave, dark eyes. 'Found him that day? The day he was….'

Draco nodded.

'You found Harry?' she said. 'In the alley? That's what _you're_ talking about?'

Draco let out a suffering breath, 'yeah. And in spite of what _you_,' he looked directly at Weasley, 'think of me, I wouldn't have just left him there…'

'Oh my God, _you_ found _him_?' Granger repeated shocked, her eyes immediately tearing up. Draco fidgeted uncomfortably. Shit, he didn't really want to see Granger's tears for Harry. He had shed enough of them on his own; he didn't want to deal with anyone else's pain. Thankfully she sniffed hard and Weasley reached out for her hand, squeezing it lightly. 'They never told us, who found Harry,' she said in a bewildered voice.' They just said it was someone from the village.'

Draco shrugged, ' yeah well, they probably thought it would be wise people not knowing that it was me finding H…' he coughed to cover up his near mistake,' Potter.'

'I guess not,' Granger said watching Draco warily.

'Ok…so,' Weasley still looked a little perplexed, 'I mean you found him….but... 'He shook his head. 'You haven't told anyone from your house?'

'Obviously,' Draco said, stating the obvious. '_Obviously,_ I'm not going to tell anyone…but I found him. I was the one who did. Not you or Granger, not anyone else, just me. You can't know what it was like because you weren't there.' And he had been alone and scared whilst Harry had nearly died.

'What do you mean _obviously_? I thought you would tell everyone and…' Weasley trailed off. ' What are you trying to_ achieve _by helping Harry? And the blood, I mean you acted like you knew about it…I mean more….' Granger looked at him curiously as Draco masked his emotions effortlessly.

'I'm not trying to _achieve_ anything. He was hurt and I helped. That night they took me back to the hospital with him because they thought I might have been hurt also…and I found out what was wrong with him, well a little anyway...'

'They wouldn't even let us see Harry that night,' Weasley said indignantly, 'and _you_ were there all along?'

'It wasn't exactly a picnic for me,' Draco snapped and Weasley frowned back at him.

'Wasn't it?' Weasley spout out. ' How the hell do _we _know that you didn't engineer it with your friends somehow... ' He began to look a little hysterical and Draco lifted his brows in anticipation. ' Oh my God, how do we…'

'Just stop, Weasley,' Draco said loudly putting a hand up in an attempt to stop any hexes before they were thrown. He could clearly see where this was headed. 'Regardless of what you think of me, I had _absolutely _NOTHING to do with the attack. You might think the worst of me but I'm not inhuman.'

Weasley's face creased slightly and he dropped his head. Granger reached for his hand and squeezed it as he took in deep breaths in a seeming attempt to calm himself. She gazed over at Draco with suspicious eyes. As if she knew that Draco was saying _less_ than the whole truth. As if he knew more…which of course he did, but Granger had no proof as such to back up her suspicions… did she?

Weasley lifted his head, still sporting a scowl. 'How can we believe anything you say? How can you expect us to?'

'I don't know, Weasley,' Draco said unsympathetically. 'I guess you make a choice. But I'm still here; Dumbledore hasn't thrown me out.'

Weasley chewed at his lip and Granger spoke up. 'So say _hypothetically_ we believe that you had nothing to do with the attack but…' She trailed off as if she could not quite garner what Draco was saying to them. 'I mean it is strange that's all.' She crossed her arms and looked a little green.

'Harry didn't tell us....' Weasley said quietly.

'Is it any wonder he didn't tell you?' Draco said sarcastically. 'With your attitude.'

Weasley slumped into his chair, his shoulders drooping. 'BUT _how_ can we believe anything you tell us?' he insisted. 'This could all be some trick….how can we trust you, Malfoy? There isn't anything you have ever done that makes me believe you're telling the truth. This could all be complete rubbish. You could be winding us up. You could be winding Harry up. You could have done something to him... this could all be_ trap _for Harry.'

'How would I be winding Potter up?' Draco replied exasperated. 'What could I have possibly done to him under Dumbledore's supervision? I'm not trying to hurt him, its nothing like that. He was sick and I was there and helped him. Nobody knows in my house and I would prefer it to remain that way.' He looked at Granger pointedly. 'Even if you don't do it for me, keep silent for Potter. If you're still confused then you can ask him about me and I guess if he feels like talking he will tell you himself. But I think he has other things on his mind right now…'

The three of them fell into a hushed silence. Weasley and Granger had looked so taken aback at the thought of Draco having a human bone in his body. As if they couldn't believe that Draco was even capable of helping anyone let alone helping Harry. That both annoyed him and amused him.

To be _fair _to them, Draco knew that it was all _probably_ quite unbelievable for them to take in and acknowledge. They were a judgemental bunch and if anything went against their theories, it was hard for them to grasp. _Because they were such a fantastic judge of character… NOT_- Draco thought derisively. He looked at the pair of them. Weasley was staring a hole into the ground; Granger was looking off into the distance. Draco examined his nails.

'How is he?' Granger asked a minute later. 'I mean you seemed to have stayed the whole time in the hospital wing…' She looked into his eyes with an intense gaze, as if digging into his mind somehow. She wasn't completely clueless and was trying to piece things together. Draco supposed that from her point of view, even if he had found Harry, it was still odd to see him care enough about Harry to stay with him for so many hours.

'He seems better,' Draco replied in an almost conversational tone. 'He is sleeping now. They want to keep him in for a few days just to make sure he isn't going to get sick again I think.'

Weasley stood up and licked his lips. He shook his head for the umpteenth time, as if Draco's words were jarring in his ears.

'Hermione? Can we go?'

Granger nodded and cast a lingering look at Draco. They both walked to the door and as Weasley reached for the handle he turned around.

'You're not friends with Harry,' he stated.

'I don't want to be,' Draco answered in a clipped voice. 'Not really…'_I want to be so much more _he thought, as he watched the two Gryffindor Prefects walk out of the room.

* * *

Over the next few days, he visited Harry twice, each time taking careful measures so that he wasn't seen by other students. Harry's cloak would have come in handy about now but there was no chance of Draco getting at it. Still he managed to stay for at least ten minutes each time and Harry did seem better. He had a little colour back into his cheeks and Draco made small talk with him as he sat with him.

The exams were finally over and the results would be out soon. Not that Draco was all that bothered in all honesty. In other news, Harry's two best friends were avoiding all eye contact with Draco as was he with them. It was too weird having them privy to a part of his carefully guarded secret. And though, he was loathed to admit it, he knew he could trust them because they cared for Harry and in that it sealed his trust in them too. They would not deliberately hurt Harry. Granger wouldn't let her buffoon of a boyfriend say or do anything stupid either so Draco felt slightly reassured there.

He made his way to the Quidditch pitch for a last practise before the final match tomorrow. Harry would be discharged from the hospital wing in the morning and was sure to watch it. He saw the Ravenclaws coming in from their practise and gave Chang the evil eye. He was going to run the bitch into the ground. Well at least that was what he would set out to do.

The practise ran for an hour and then the tired but energised team hit the showers. As he came back outside he saw Blaise and Pansy sitting amongst fellow supporters. Blaise regarded him with a weird look and he cocked his brow. Why was she looking at him like that? He looked her over casually and she stared at him for a moment before looking away.

As predicted last night, he did run Chang into the ground. It had been beautiful. He had seen the Snitch barely three metres away from the ground and nosedived at the same time as Chang. Speeding down in a blur like Harry had done once, he grabbed the Snitch, steering upwards in the last second. Chang smashed into the ground head first. A bubble of laughter broke from his lips as he flew up higher leading the Slytherin team into victory. Slytherin had won the cup for the first time in six years.

He tried to rejoice in all the happy cheering Slytherin faces whilst there was much groaning and moaning heard elsewhere. His head swung towards the Gryffindor stands and he tried to make out Harry's expression, although he couldn't really tell from here. Weasley's distinct red head was lowered. A sign that he hadn't enjoyed Slytherin winning. _Good_, Draco thought. That would probably hit Weasley where it hurt. Captain of a losing team that hadn't even made the finals. He smiled smugly because regardless of all the bad vibes and antagonism towards his house- they had still won the cup. It was good; it pissed off the other houses even more. Professor Snape was actually smiling a little and he proudly shook all the team members' hands as they went to receive the cup.

The victory party in their house went on into the early hours of Sunday morning and even Professor Snape had shown up and congratulated them heartily. Draco had caught his eye and offered his housemaster a sincere smile which surprisingly enough the man returned. Afterwards, Draco had fallen asleep on the large sofa in front of the fireplace on Pansy's shoulder, much to her delight. He had woken in the morning with a sigh as her hand was tightly clasped around his. Blaise at that moment came into the common room and had given him an irritated stare without saying anything. He momentarily wondered what her problem was, and then decided he didn't really care. He untangled himself from Pansy's grip and went to have a wash and get some breakfast. As usual he was eager to see Harry's face.

He didn't leave the Great Hall till Harry finished his breakfast and then went ahead of Harry and stood around near the dungeon entrance in hopes of Harry spotting him and maybe coming over. Was that expecting too much? Probably. Or maybe not? He waited anxiously as some sixth year Gryffindor's left the hall. It was a beautiful day out; everyone was probably going to be lounging around the lake relaxing. He turned his back as he spotted Weasley's head. Once he was sure Weasley had walked past him, he turned around and saw Harry coming out of the hall. He was alone, thank goodness. Draco smoothed out his robes and went towards the doors also as Harry followed behind.

'Hey,' he said in a low voice.

'Hello,' Harry replied as Draco turned his head back. His pale eyes fixed on Draco. 'Congratulations on the game,' he said to Draco. 'You flew really well.'

'Thanks,' Draco said sincerely. 'You saw the whole match then?'

Harry nodded, 'I'm glad you won.' He reached for the door and opened it and Draco stood back as Harry walked outside. He held the door open watching Harry go down the steps. _He had noticed._

During lunch, everyone was still spilled outside on the lawn. Draco himself was sat with his housemates having a picnic. He was propped up on one elbow and keeping a careless glance on Harry's back. He could see Harry; quite a few Gryffindor's and Luna-tic all sitting together a few tree's away. Pansy handed him a sandwich and a bottle of iced cider. He took it without thanking her but she smiled broadly anyway. He wondered if he was going to be able to get a few moments alone with Harry somehow again.

He stretched and lay down as Pansy's tentative fingers brushed some of his hair off his forehead. He let her, hardly noticing what she was doing. From the corner of his eye he could see Cassidy playing cards with a few first years. He was all right now. He had made a few friends. Quite a few of the Slytherin's had realised over the weeks that being overtly shunned by the other houses had made them turn to one another all the more. Hence, the bullying and fights within the house had decreased.

He watched lazily for a few moments beneath half-closed lids when he suddenly sprang up. Pansy looked up at him surprised.

'Draco?' she called out after him and he could hear Greg cackling.

He ran into school and up the stairs to the West Tower. Panting slightly he reached the Owlery and waited till a small Hufflepuff left the room before walking over to Hedwig.

'Hey girl,' he said and she flew down off her perch to him. He grinned and kissed her crown softly. 'I just remembered he is probably going to come up and feed you something and thought I'd come up also. See?' She hooted softly and he stroked her feathers.

Five minutes later Harry walked into the dusty room. He didn't look surprised to see Draco though his eyes did widen a little when he saw Draco stroking Hedwig.

'Hey,' he said.

'Hi,' Draco answered moving away from Hedwig a little. Hedwig immediately went over to Harry and sat on his shoulder, pecking his cheek lovingly. Draco smiled as Harry petted her and they both stood in silence for a moment.

Draco then cleared his throat, 'um, I was wondering, if I uhhh…' _Just say it_. 'If I could write to you over the holidays?' He tried to appear laid-back as Harry considered his words. He swallowed as Harry took a few moments to reply. Did Harry not trust him enough to give his address? He looked deep into Harry's eyes and then finally saw Harry's expression relax a little.

'Sure,' he answered simply.

'Ok good,' Draco nodded, 'umm, I'll tell you what. Just jot your address down for me and I'll memorise it and we can tear it up so you know it won't be _out there_ or anything. I'll just remember it.'

'Okay,' Harry said and went over to the little writing desk with blank parchments and scrawled his address down. He handed it over to Draco who took it gratefully. __

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

He read it over a few times making sure he had it committed to memory and then reached for his wand and set the small piece of paper alight.

'If you want to write back to me you can just give the letter to my owl or something, or you know I can write down my address in the letter.' He shrugged, 'whatever.'

Harry nodded and fed Hedwig some treats.

'She likes you,' Harry said and Draco smiled.

'Yeah I think she does.'

Harry nodded again and then lowered his face to Hedwig who nipped his ear before flying back up to the rafters.

'Are you all right?' Draco came near to him and Harry met his eyes. 'Are you feeling okay?'

'Yes, thank you.'

'That's good.' He looked around the little circular room. The dust particles were floating in the air as the sharp sunlight lit up the stuffy area. Harry's eyes were still clear, the colour had not returned to them yet. The holidays would do him well, Draco thought as he watched Harry silently. He'll eat properly and put some weight back on, have his family look after him. Harry looked towards the door and Draco stepped back.

'You go ahead, I'm going to you know….send something.'

'All right.' Harry said and gave him a teeny-weenie, crooked smile. 'See you then.' Harry waved a hand and then turned to take the spiral staircase downstairs.

Draco waited a full two minutes before he started to go back downstairs. As he reached the long corridor he felt a hand grab his arm. He jumped in surprise.

'Draco.'

'What the ..,' he said. It was Blaise. 'What is it? Do you have to sneak up on me like that?' He snapped at her, annoyed and immediately wondered if she had seen Harry leave minutes before.

'What are you doing?' she asked suspiciously, her dark eyes rising to meet his boldly.

'Nothing,' he said defensively.

'Nothing?' She raised her brows and looked at him pointedly.

'No, I mean yes,' he said slightly flustered. 'I mean yes, no I'm doing nothing.' _Was that even a sentence?_

Blaise shook her head and then just said, 'Draco, are you stalking Potter?'

'What?' He spluttered in the best disbelieving tone he could muster. 'No why?'

'Because you're stalking Potter!' She cried out insistently.

'_Shut up!!_' He hissed. He gripped her arm and pushed her back into the shadows of the wall. 'No I'm not,' he said, looking around to see if anyone had heard her outburst. _Bloody hell. Where the fuck did that come from?_

'Yes you are. I've seen you.'

'Excuse me,' Draco said angrily, 'you've been following me?'

'No I haven't,' she said in an annoyed tone. 'Not _exactly_, but well I've seen you run off a few times and wondered where you were going and it is nearly always somewhere Potter can be found as well.'

'Because you _have_ been following me,' Draco said menacingly, his eyes narrowing and his grip on her arm getting harder. 'How dare you?'

She stared at him and he looked away, shaking his head. It was all unravelling. 'What is going on with you?' she carried on, not attempting to move away.

'Nothing, all right? Just leave it. It's nothing, I'm not _stalking_ him.' He let go of her, flinging her arm away aggressively.

_Shit, shit, shit. This was all so bloody great. First Weasley and Granger and now her._

'No, Draco. Something _is_ going on.' Blaise stepped in front of him, her eyes unflinching. She was a tall girl and in heels she easily met his icy gaze. 'You've been really weird lately. You've been acting off for ages….. Is it your mum?'

'Just shut up all right? It isn't my mum she is fine.'

Blaise watched him angrily, 'then what? Your dad?'

'He is safe and sound in prison thanks very much,' Draco retorted harshly.

'Well, what then?' Blaise persisted. 'Are you planning something? Are you going to attack Potter or do something…?' Her hands gesticulated at him as she searched for what to say. 'I don't get it.'

'You don't need to _get it_.' Draco replied testily. 'I'm not _planning_ anything.' It made him sick to think that the reason Blaise thought he was following Harry was to do something nasty. Though, obviously, it was better that she believed that, he quickly thought on reflection.

'I don't know, I guess I was just seeing if he did anything or whatever… I don't know Blaise, but whatever I'm doing; it's _none_ of your business.'

She now looked at him with concerned eyes, 'well whatever you are doing, it's obviously distracting you and making you miserable.'

He stuck his tongue inside his cheek as he wondered of the best way to get out of this situation.

'I just wish things were back to normal I guess,' he then replied, partly honestly. 'I'm a little sick of what's been going on around here and well everywhere.' He shook his head and looked down.

Blaise listened quietly and then reached out and squeezed his arm. 'I'm here if you want to talk you know. I wish you would.'

He whipped his head up in surprise. She was concerned about him? Why? 'Ohh right,' he stammered, 'thanks.' He really didn't know what to do with that.

She took her hand away and nodded. They stood uncomfortably and the awkwardness was tangible. He had never had a true, genuine moment with Blaise before. He had always thought she was a bitch before and then a slag and not much else after that. To think that she actually was bothered enough to care about what was happening to him was really strange. Not that he would tell her or anything. Still it was a little weird. Draco looked down the hallway and ran his fingers through his hair, pondering over his next words. He hated pleading. It was so degrading. But nonetheless he felt it was his only choice.

'Blaise? Could you not tell anyone about this?' He said earnestly. 'You haven't have you?'

'No,' she shook her head. 'I think I'm the only one who has noticed really.'

Go figure, Draco thought. 'So we can just keep this between us? I mean I'm not going to do anything and well I guess I just wanted to see, I don't know what, but I just want to put this term behind me you know?'

She shrugged, 'yeah sure. I was just worried that's all.'

He looked into her dark eyes and gave her a small smile.

'She's in love with you, you know,' Blaise then said in a dry tone.

'What?' he asked, not following her train of thought.

'Pansy,' Blaise said with a smirk.

'Oh that,' he said shaking his head. 'She'll get over it.'

'It's so obvious you don't care about her,' Blaise replied, her eyes crinkling in humour.

Draco shrugged, 'she knows I don't like her like that. It's no big deal.'

'Well I'm just saying don't be surprised if she starts planning a wedding,' Blaise sniggered.

Draco laughed, 'well it's a good thing my dad taught me how to Obliviate people isn't it? If Pansy gets too much well…' he trailed off leaving the rest unsaid but making his point clear enough. His dad had showed him how to Obliviate using a stray Muggle who had crossed their paths one evening when he had been fifteen. It had been a lesson worth taking. Draco was sure it would come handy one day. Blaise raised her brows and grinned widely.

'Well, keep in touch over summer all right?' She moved away from the wall and came close to him, trailing a finger across his cheek.

He nodded and then said, 'thanks, Blaise.'

She gave a jaunty nod and with a small smile walked away. Draco stuffed his hands into his pockets and leant back against the wall as the click of her heels tapped away into the distance.

He closed his eyes and took in a few deep breaths. His mind went blank for a moment as the scene that had just taken place, soaked into his mind. He rubbed the back of his neck. Too many people were finding out too fast. And Harry didn't even know what was going on. Draco hated feeling out of control. He hated having to rely on others to keep something so personal to him a secret. Granger, Weasley and even Blaise now.

He pulled himself away from the cold stone wall and slowly trudged down the stairs recalling more and more names that knew about him and Harry. The werewolf, his housemaster, Dumbledore, Pomfrey… he bit his lip hard. The people in the alley that night, the hospital staff at St Mungo's… _too many people knew_. Draco didn't trust readily. He wasn't a particularly trusting character. What if Granger and Weasley talked about it and someone overheard? What if Blaise was feeling vengeful one night and told everyone that he had been '_stalking_' Harry? What if the dimwits in his house started putting two and two together and finding out?

Urgh.

He didn't know what he could do to rectify any of it. He just had to accept it and make good of a difficult situation. If that was even possible.

* * *

On the day of the feast, the exam results came out. Draco had passed all of his subjects, to his surprise.

Vincent, who had failed mostly everything, glanced at his results sheet, 'Wow, all that revising you've been doing really paid off huh?'

Draco smiled back coolly. 'Yeah I guess it did,' he said looking over the lawn to where Harry was sat. He wondered if Harry had passed any of the written tests he had sat for. He looked at Weasley and hoped that the boy had failed everything along with his girlfriend.

In the afternoon, he wearily packed away his things. He was feeling depressed which totally sucked. He wanted to see his mother of course and it was going to be really nice to be out of school but he really hated the fact that he wouldn't get to see Harry throughout the holidays. Realistically he knew there was no way. However, at least he could write to Harry, which was something.

He saw Harry at dinner and caught his eye. Harry stared at him for a moment before looking away and Draco glumly began to work his way through his three course meal. Pansy was twittering on about summer and he told her in a bored voice that he would be abroad for the whole break. Her face fell and he sighed and made small talk with Vincent. Dumbledore had spoken words of caution and Draco noticed a heavy silence fall over the room. Things were getting worse by the day. He didn't even want to visualize what was happening outside the bastion he was in. He had managed to stay impassive to most of the panic and news as his mind had been occupied with Harry, but now that school was over, each student would be returning to their homestead and being placed right in the middle of whatever horror and unrest that was surrounding their families.

Draco didn't know how far Voldemort's hands had spread. He knew that his mother would not remain on British soil any longer than was needed. She was safer abroad as was he. His father was safe in prison and Harry would be safe at home. But still, Draco felt so crap and empty at the thought of the endless weeks of summer. He felt his head ache and his shoulders sagged. All in all, it had been a bad year. Really, and truly bad. The weeks he had spent with Harry had been the best thing that had happened to him in so many months, and _even_ then he hadn't let himself enjoy it. Appreciate it. He immersed himself into a quiet procession of doldrums and didn't notice Blaise trying to catch his attention.

A second later he felt something hit him. He looked up in surprise and heard Blaise chortle. She had flicked a bit of mashed potato at him. He laughed suddenly and she grinned at him. He flicked back a few peas at her and she grinned back good-naturedly. She raised her glass to him. He nodded and raised his goblet in return and took a sip. His smile faded as he saw Weasley look over at his table and their eyes met. They hadn't said a word to one another since that day, and nor were they going to if it could be helped. Draco had said enough to both Weasel and Granger; the rest was up to Harry. If they brought it up with Harry it would be Harry's decision if whether he wanted to disclose any details or not. Draco really didn't want to deal with the two Gryffindor's if he didn't need to.

The next morning everyone had breakfast and then started to bring down their trunks. Draco had already placed his in the Entrance Hall and so after breakfast, he sped up to the seventh floor. He waited behind a corner as he saw various Gryffindor's marching their trunks in succession down the stairs. Weasley and his sister had come out, followed by Granger. They started down the stairs and Draco spotted Harry slowly walking behind them. Weasley was taking down Harry's trunk for him.

Draco drew his wand out and snagged Harry's cloak with a well-aimed shot in the corner. Harry faltered and stopped, pulling it away and looking about to see what it had got caught on. Draco shot a look through the banisters ahead. The stairs had swung away into a different direction and Harry straightened his cloak as he waited for the next staircase to come back around to him.

'Hey,' Draco called out softly as he came out from around the corner.

Harry looked at him and tilted his head, 'hey.'

'All packed then?' Draco said, stating the obvious.

Harry nodded, 'yeah.'

'So ummm,' Draco cleared his throat and ran an eye around them. It was empty for the moment and the paintings were busy saying goodbye to one another. 'I hope you have a nice summer,' he said genuinely.

Harry stayed quiet and looked away for a second before looking back at Draco.

'I hope you have a good summer too,' he then said and Draco smiled.

'Thanks.'

'So uhhhh…' he trailed off and stepped closer towards Harry. Harry watched him with translucent eyes, standing still. Draco suddenly felt desperately in need of contact. He wanted to be comforted and held, comforted and held by Harry. It had been such an awful term and with all the stress finally catching up on him, he felt himself break a little bit. His head lowered and he took in a few breaths. He could feel Harry's eyes on him and swallowed hard. He looked at the floor, trying to reign himself in but then looked up at Harry and felt his attempted resolve crumble away.

He saw Harry reach out a hesitant hand and quickly caught it, thankful for the gesture, savouring the feel of Harry's hand entangle with his. He looked at their joined hands and then looked at Harry's face. He looked uncertain of what was happening, and Draco came forward quickly and pulled Harry into his arms tightly. He pressed his face against Harry's cheek, his hands gripping the back of Harry's neck, his fingers sinking into the dark hair he had missed so much.

He felt Harry take in a surprised breath but nonetheless continued to hold him closely. He brushed a faint kiss on Harry's cheek before moving back. Harry stared at him with a faintly troubled expression and Draco felt himself freeze for a moment. Taking in a brave breath, he brought timid fingers to Harry's face, skimming his jaw lightly. Harry now had an unreadable look in his eyes and Draco couldn't interpret it at all. He decided to throw caution to the wind and pressed his lips against Harry's.

The moment of contact felt like pure sweet release. Letting go, after all these weeks of holding back felt so good that Draco completely lost sight of actual thought- only concentrating on the physical aspect of what was happening. He held Harry tightly and drank thirstily from the sweet lips that were attached to his. He felt Harry's lips move under his cautiously and kissed with more vigour.

A burst of heat enflamed Draco as he felt Harry's hands grip at his waist. He smiled and opened his eyes, looking into the sudden, open depths of Harry's. Harry's eyes all of a sudden looked at him intimately as if he remembered this. What they had had. What they had shared before…Draco closed his eyes blissfully and enjoyed the swell and heat of Harry's mouth. Nothing could have dragged Draco away from Harry at that moment. They were together and Draco was lost happily. A moment's peace had settled around him and he felt Harry around him again. This was what his heart was fighting for desperately.

A minute must have passed and had Draco not been too preoccupied, he might have noticed that Harry was not responding any longer. Harry wasn't pulling away, but he was most definitely not responding any more. But Draco did not notice. He was so grateful that this was not a daydream of his, that _this was_ reality. His lips slid wider and his tongue shot out, immediately inserting itself into Harry's mouth. The jolt was instantaneous. And that Draco _did _notice. He heard Harry gasp, his breath going cold as the warmth vanished. Harry pulled his head away sideways, Draco's lips dragging against his cheek. Draco looked at him with alarm. Harry's face was now shuttered and closed down. The fleeting look of familiarity has passed and the small connection Draco had felt with him had evaporated.

'No,' Harry gasped. 'No,' he repeated and Draco felt his heart beat dully as Harry tried to release himself from Draco's arms. The effect was quick and devastating. He felt tears prick his eyes as Harry moved away from him. It didn't matter what Draco needed or wanted, if Harry didn't want to be here with him Draco couldn't force him.

'I'm sorry but I can't do this…' Harry said taking in short breaths as if he couldn't breathe.

Draco froze, his blood growing cold.

'…don't make me feel…' Harry whispered. 'Please I don't want to. I can't.'

And with that he shot out of Draco's arms and rushed downstairs. Draco stood still like a statue and tried to recollect himself before he shattered into pieces. He closed his eyes in mortification, as his heart pounded and his head spun. He couldn't reach Harry at this time regardless of how much he wanted to. He had no clue as to what Harry was thinking or feeling.

The odd, closed-off look that Harry had worn for weeks had not given him much indication of the chaos that was going on in Harry's head. Draco was at a loss as to what he could do to make this dismal situation any better. His words could not be spoken yet; his actions could not be shown yet. It was all too soon and too late at the same time. Just when he had thought that he was getting closer to Harry, he had distanced himself even further away.

He felt as if he were lost in a maze, stumbling his way through. At times, thinking he had made the right turn but instead reaching a dead end every time. There were no short cuts to be found, no easy paths to be taken. He was there in the middle of it, stuck, unsure of where to turn and where to go. He heaved a huge sigh and lumbered down the stairs and out of the doors.

The sixth year had ended.

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**_Karina blahing: So? How was it? Oh dear, I still get all anxious with new chapters but fear is good! Makes us strive harder (or something)._**

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**_Thank you so much for waiting and then in turn bothering to read such a long chapter. Perhaps the sixth year didn't end as some of you expected. It's been a hell of a year for Draco and Harry. Let's see what I do with summer hey? Hehee_**

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**_Thanks to:_** _Marie Falcon, __Portia, Phoebe, ching lang , bacie , Izzyyish, dan-rad, joEy1607**- For reviewing The Chariot.**_

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**_Thanks to:_** _Dragenphly, Marie Falcon, __C. Night, Gwaeren, Jade Quinn, frogslayr, SeparatriX, dablksaiyangurl, EdenMalfoy017, riantlykalopsic, Vimy, ana-pj, Peilless, Robin the bird, ura , TonksLovesTheClash , RSSLSCTZ, Chi7890, viciousdisorder, Belle , Bad-Azz-Slytherin Chaos, tsubasagahoushi, Godlovesme, Soft Willow, Fire Oranie, Tenar, SlytherinSexGoddess, Phoebe, Didge , Phoenixsword , Amarylis Cemetery, coolio , Kittydemon, AbundantFear, shoal, Jacqueline91, Jean,RainSW6** For reviewing The Hermit**_

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**_Thanks to Chi (hugs) cos you know… And thanks to: _**_Dita P, miza, SlytherinSexGoddess, ura , invisible2u _-**_For Reviewing With A Kiss_**

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**I sorta get confused sometimes when some of you change your nicks, cos I think awww so and so didn't review :o( But then I realise afterwards that some of my lovely faithful reviewers DID, after all, indeedy review- they've just gone and changed their name (e.g Jaquleine91 Lol ). Thanks guys xxxxxxxx Karina**


	11. Scenes From A Childhood

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the rights to her books, that she painstakingly wrote- cheers to Harry Potter and the wonderful world around it.**

**Thanks to Coffeecat for having the patience to re-read this chapter. **

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**Chapter Eleven**

**Scenes From A Childhood**

It was now mid July and if Harry had thought he had been feeling out of sorts in school, he had been wrong. It was much worse in Little Whinging. Here at the Dursleys. He hated it here. As soon as he had stepped off the train and onto the platform at Kings Cross, he could feel the gloominess set in like a cold wind seeping into his bones. His uncle had grown even fatter and looked at him as if he were a dangerous vagrant and his aunt, who had grown even thinner, had been peering at him shiftily since she had laid eyes on him. Dudley, also a little larger, had glowered at him and stayed as far away from him as possible. The journey back from the station had been very quiet and smothered with silent tension.

Harry knew that Dumbledore had forwarded the Dursleys an owl disclosing some significant details of Harry's condition. Harry wasn't sure if it was supposed to make things any better. The Dursleys had been treating him like a leper ever since he'd arrived, as if he had a terminal disease that they could possibly catch somehow if they so much as came within ten inches of him.

His trunk was allowed to stay with him in his room, which quite surprisingly his uncle had got Dudley to lift up the stairs. Dudley had complied with much vocal bitterness. Hedwig's cage was placed upon his desk by his aunt, but even all these little things did not make Harry feel any better. They hated him. He could feel it with every stare and movement around him. They resented his presence as much as he resented being here.

Right now, he was lying on his bed in the middle of the day. He could sleep but he didn't feel like it. He wasn't allowed to go outside alone so venturing towards the park or anywhere else was off the list. He didn't want to go into the garden. Aunt Petunia was watering the plants and there was no point subjecting her to his company any more than necessary. Dudley was watching TV in the living room and he seemed to take up all of downstairs with his bulk and messy trail of shoes and sweet wrappers and crisp packets, so Harry chose to remain in his room. Like he had predominantly done since he had arrived back at Privet Drive.

Hedwig had been particularly clingy since he had come out of hospital and at present was sitting on his pillow, pecking at his hair fondly. He reached out and stroked her as he stared ahead at the peeling wallpaper on the wall opposite him. The room had been painted blue once and then wall papered with some garish flowery pattern. Now it was papered in plain cream, which had dulled over the years. There was a damp spot on the ceiling near the door. The roof must have been leaking and Harry was sure that the tiles had been replaced but it would be expecting too much of the Dursleys to go over the yellow patch in his room with a lick of white paint. Though, after all, they didn't think of it as his bedroom. He was the burdensome lodger they had to put up with till he was of an age where they could legally, by magic law, put him on the street. He _was_ a lodger; Harry knew that Dumbledore must have given them some incentive to keep him for all those years. Mere threats probably would not have worked. The Dursleys were a greedy bunch, and Harry was sure on some level, it had been made worth their while to put a roof over his head.

An hour later, he went downstairs to get a glass of juice. It appeared that Dudley had gone out and his aunt was on the phone sitting in the kitchen. Harry took his drink into the living room and sat down. He couldn't be bothered to watch TV, so he sat there and sipped his drink. He was staring blankly at the wall and his eyes became unfocused as he went into a trance. A minute later he snapped out of it and his eyes wandered over to the fireplace on the mantelpiece. There were numerous pictures of Dudley's metamorphosis into the fat pig he still was. He spotted one picture that was taken at the Christmas concert in junior school. Of Dudley.

He remembered that December well. It was strange how random memories firmly entrenched themselves in one's mind. At the age of seven, Harry been quite good at the recorder. His music teacher had asked him to perform a solo at the concert and he had happily agreed. Foolishly he thought that, if he played well, his aunt and uncle might notice and say something nice to him. Show some approval. They might even smile at him and maybe buy him some sweets if he was really good. And just maybe, _maybe_, they might even get him a small present? No, that would be too greedy he decided on reflection; he would settle for a smile and a hug - just like they hugged Dudley. So with that thought in mind he carried on practising.

Of course they wouldn't let him practise at home.

'_SHUT UP WITH ALL THAT RACKET,' his uncle had yelled so Harry had taken to practising in a spare classroom during lunchtime at school. But he hadn't minded, he thought it might be a nice surprise for them._

_His music teacher had even asked if he had considered joining the choir and he had asked his aunt tentatively one night if he could. _

_Unfortunately his uncle heard and he snarled, 'choir? You want to join the choir? What are you? Huh? I've never heard such rubbish,' he had blustered. 'Did you know that if you join the choir you have to buy a white dress shirt? Do you think your parents left you any money to buy a dress shirt, Boy_?' _Uncle Vernon loomed over him, his huge girth bearing down onto Harry's tiny and slight frame. _

_And as he waited for Harry to answer, Harry stared up at him owlishly. After a moment he said quietly, 'umm no, Uncle Vernon.'_

_'No, they didn't,' his uncle said cuttingly. 'So don't go around thinking stupid ideas of joining this and that. The choir!! I ask you,' his uncle snorted and stomped back to the sofa and his paper._

_So Harry had not joined the choir._

_But he still had his solo to look forward to and he was thankful that __Dudley__ also had to attend the Christmas concert otherwise he was quite sure he wouldn't have been able to do his solo. He knew that his aunt and uncle only had come because of __Dudley__. But this way, they would still get to watch Harry. They would have to. _

_He was nervous at the time, but his music teacher had smiled at him encouragingly and he had played faultlessly. After he finished, he searched for his aunt and uncle in the audience as everyone applauded. But they weren't looking at him. They were talking to one another and, with a sinking heart, he realised that they might not have even noticed his solo piece._

_As the concert finished, his aunt had immediately enfolded __Dudley__ in her arms and cooed over his brilliant performance. He hadn't even done anything, Harry had thought, feeling angry and hurt. His cousin had stood right at the back so he wouldn't even have to sing – yet he got more praise than Harry. It wasn't fair. He had tried so hard. And they hadn't even noticed. _

_His head hung a little low as he spied other parents with their arms proudly around their children. He wanted that. Have someone be proud of him and hold him. Have someone like him. He was going to have that one day, he decided. Have someone care for him. He was a nice boy. He never hit anyone or threw tantrums and always finished his food on his plate. Some day, someone would come for him and take him away from this life and give him a new one where he was liked and loved. Some day. _

_The music teacher had spotted Harry leaving and approached the Dursleys._

_'Hello, Mr and Mrs Dursley.__ I'm the music teacher, Mrs Barnes.' His aunt and uncle looked at her quizzically and she continued. 'You must be very proud of Harry. He played so well,' her smile grew wider as his aunt's and uncle's faces soured further. 'I told him he should join the choir, he has a lovely little voice.' Her smile wilted on her face slightly and she looked a little surprised at the Dursley's expressions_.

_His uncle looked like that was the most disgusting thing he had ever heard and Aunt Petunia pursed her lips tightly as if that was the most outrageous thing she had ever heard. Harry could see Dudley give him a jealous glare, his piggy eyes narrowing._

_His music teacher then looked a little flustered at the lack of conversation and had bid them good night._

_Dudley had snickered at him all the way back home in the car, mimicking Harry playing the recorder. He kept shoving Harry's shoulder and laughing and Harry had given up trying to get him to stop hitting and sat plastered to the car door and stared out of the window. His small face glum as he looked out on the passing street lights. He remembered that drive back well._

_Dudley__ hadn't forgotten to tease Harry the next day either._

_'So, choir boy, sing for us,' he and his friends had laughed loudly at Harry. Harry had tried to ignore them but they chased after him._

_'Hey, FREAK,' they shouted as they ran at him. 'what you gonna sing for us today?' _

_'Let's beat him up till he sings for us to let go!!' they had jeered and they chased him all over the playground._

_He had run breathlessly, his little legs sprinting for all they were worth and climbing on top of the bins, looking for a way out but he had been cornered. That was the day he had shot up in the air and onto the roof. He had thanked his lucky stars for the miraculous gust of wind that had lifted him._

_The next morning he had found his recorder broken into pieces as he stepped out from his cupboard. He had looked at it, devastated, and __Dudley__ had smirked at his expression._

_'It used to be mine anyway, freak,' he said bouncing about on his feet jovially. 'I can do what I want with it.'_

_Harry had then looked at him and said, 'yeah well that's all you do – break stuff. You don't know how to use anything properly that's why.'_

Those comments had earned him no dinner that night, but Harry had felt righteous about his anger, even at such a young age. As he relived his memory, he could still feel the same spark of anger.

He sighed deeply as he finished off his juice and went out of the room. He guessed that he could have a bath. Sit in the tub for a while. He took a clean pair of pyjamas from his room and grabbed a towel from the airing cupboard. There was no point in getting dressed really. He went into the bathroom and took off his clothes, his fingers slipping over the scar on his abdomen.

It was a strange scar and he imagined that it might look a little like a bullet wound. A very large bullet wound. Round and raised, slightly pinker than the rest of his colouring. His fingers from his other hand travelled to his back, where the same scar had duplicated. The sword had gone right through him and out the other side. Voldemort had twisted it around in a circle making sure Harry had felt the full depth of the steel hitting and mangling every nerve on its way. Two scars; front and back. He pressed his fingers on both scars at the same time and pushed inwards. You could almost feel the tangled, twisted tissue of muscle that had fought to heal itself running from one point to the other. It felt a little strange and sometimes, when he bent down, he thought he could feel the tunnel of the closed up wound press into him.

Three scars from Voldemort. Three scars reminding him how close he had come to death. Lupin had told him that as much as they had tried to remove the scars, the Healers had no success. Maybe in time, the scars would disappear but Harry doubted it. His scar on his forehead hadn't in sixteen years, so why should these be any different?

He ran the bath and slipped in lethargically. He felt so tired and he hadn't even done anything though he had slept all right last night. Madam Pomfrey had handed him an 'emergency kit' with sleep and pain potions before he had left school, but had told him that he was only to use them if he was feeling _absolutely_ dire. He supposed they were worried that he would become addicted to sleep potion.

Ever since he had woken up in hospital, up till the last week of school - he had been given a dreamless sleep potion every night. But over summer, they thought it best to not continue in case his body became too reliant or something. In case _he_ became too reliant and didn't try and sleep by himself. But he was tired most of the time and sleep drifted over him usually without him noticing.

His dreams, since the termination of the potion, had been a mixture of flashbacks and nightmares. Some nights were worse than others: some nights he didn't dream at all. Even after all these weeks, the memory of thatnight was still so sharp. At times when he awoke, covered in sweat, he thought he could feel the ghostly agony of the sword being driven into him. The memory of the pain seeping into his mind and impinging into his subconscious. It had hurt and still hurt.

At those times, when he couldn't seem to calm himself down, he used his Occlumency technique - by blanking everything out from his mind and then going to his favourite place in his head. He immersed his mind with images of _white_ and felt his muscles relax. For a few brief moments he felt like he did when he had ''woken up''- completely at peace. And then it would quickly disappear and he would remember everything all over again.

While he was at hospital, there had been a Healer who had come in everyday trying to get him to talk about the attack. He hadn't. What was there to say? He thought he had died. And he hadn't. After two weeks, they realised it was a fruitless attempt to get Harry to cooperate and Lupin had told him that he was there if Harry wanted to talk. Talk about nearly dying, what was the point of that? Harry couldn't tell them anything they didn't already know. Apparently they knew exactly what curse Voldemort had put on him, how he had invoked it, and they had even come up with a cure. They hadn't needed Harry to say anything at all. So Harry hadn't.

Harry closed his eyes and let the warm air over the water hit his face. A minute later there was a knock on the bathroom door.

'Umm, are you in there?' It was his aunt.

He cleared his throat and sat up a little in the bath. 'Yes, yes I'm in here.'

'Eh okay, well don't be too long,' she said and he heard her footsteps go back downstairs.

Don't be too long? Because _she_ fancied a bath in the middle of the day? Or she wondered if he was playing with the taps? Or that he was drowning himself? Or she was worried about his skin becoming wrinkly and him catching a cold? Oh, of course, she was worried he was using up all the hot water. In the middle of July?

He leant back against the tub again and slipped in further. Half an hour later, he eventually dredged up enough energy to wash his hair and run a sponge over his body. He felt faint and dizzy as he heaved himself out of the bath and rested on the side, getting his breath back. He didn't think the water had been that hot. He stood up and looked at his face in the large mirror on the wall. He looked pale, not hot at all. But he did notice that he had filled out and grown taller. Though he wasn't eating his meals always at the proper times, the portions had been quite large and so he had gained some weight.

Perhaps his aunt had been led to believe that he might die of starvation so now she made sure he always had a healthy helping at all meal times. Which he mostly ate alone. His aunt sometimes gave him dinner earlier than when the rest of the family ate. Maybe she was worried that Harry might contaminate the food somehow, he wasn't sure, but he didn't mind. It was all right eating alone.

But now looking at himself, he decided he still looked horrible. He leant in closer to the mirror, inspecting himself critically. His eyes were now a watery, anaemic, greyish-green colour. His eyes were the only feature he actually had of his mother. He had been blessed with her eyes and now he didn't even have that anymore. He began to dry off his hair and recalled the hospital staff assuring him that his magic would return and his eyes would go back to normal.

He was going to be seventeen soon. He should have been revising for his Apparation test and finally be permitted to practice magic outside of school. He should have been but he wasn't because he couldn't – he had no magic.

He trudged out to his room and found a cold glass of water sitting on his bedside table. He hadn't asked for it but gratefully drank it down. Maybe the trick was not to ask his aunt for anything and then in return she would actually give him…things or something. As he dressed, he remembered a time when he had been five and he had dared to ask for something. Ask for something that had been Dudley's.

_Aunt Petunia had been bringing down a large box from the upper floor that seemed to be over loaded with items. The phone had started to ring and she quickly rushed down the stairs and put the box down, hurrying off to answer it._

_Harry was hitching up his too-big trousers that kept slipping down his non-existent bottom and peered down into the box. His eyes boggled. There were toys in there. Lots of toys. He fell down onto his knees and reached out with his tiny hands, skimming them over the contents in the box. There was __Dudley__'s reader learning computer and there were some board games and cuddly toys. He smiled widely, his lips turning up gleefully as he saw something red peeking from under some reading books. _

_Aunt Petunia came back and caught him looking and he quickly dropped his hands to his sides, holding his breath in so he was still as could be. He hoped she hadn't noticed him touching __Dudley__'s things._

_'What are you looking at?' She snapped, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. _

_His gaze shot to the box and then up at his aunt. His hands automatically went to the waistband of his trousers and he attempted to pull his trousers up again as he tilted his head. 'Are they __Dudley__'s toys? Are they going somewhere?'_

_She pursed her thin mouth together and swallowed before replying, 'why?'_

_He shrugged his thin shoulders slightly, 'I just wondered.' He stared at the little red toy that was still hiding under a pile._

_Aunt Petunia began to sift through the coat rack for her jacket._

_'Are you taking them somewhere?' He asked again, pushing up his glasses that kept slipping down his tinylittle nose._

_She let out a small puff of exasperation and pointed in the direction of the kitchen, 'go and eat your lunch quickly.'_

_'I've eaten thank you,' he said, his index finger now against the corner of his mouth, tapping nervously._

_Her eyes twitched as she pulled on her jacket and picked up the car keys. She bent down to lift the box and he quickly scrambled onto his feet, his right hand lifting in the air to get her attention. ._

_'Aunt Petunia?' he said, his hand now wavering mid-air. 'Are you giving away the toys?' _

_'Yes, __Dudley__ doesn't want them anymore. Why?' she asked in an irritable tone. The box was high up over his head and he craned his neck to see his aunt's face. 'what do you want?'_

_He had felt a small burst of excitement in his stomach, as he said, 'umm well, uhhh I thought I saw the red train in the box and I thought… I thought umm that… that I could maybe play with it…' He looked at her expectantly with hopeful, eager wide eyes. _

_She peered down at him not saying anything. She was frowning but she hadn't said no. He watched her with bated breath, looking at her. At her curly hair that was pinned up and her small diamond studs that winked as the light hit them._

_'Please?' He then remembered to say politely. He was always supposed to say please if he wanted something._

_'Fine,' and he heard her rifle though the box overhead. She took out the small red train and balancing the box in one hand, she crashed it down into his palm with the other._

_He winced slightly but smiled happily, disregarding the pain, and thanked her wholeheartedly as he looked at the little red train lovingly. It really was magnificent. The wheels moved and the tiny doors opened and everything. He took the train joyfully into the lounge and started to play with it on the windowsill._

_'No,' Aunt Petunia called out. 'Come back here. I am going out so you'll have to go in the cupboard.'_

_'Ok,' he said and he went into the tiny, cramped space and tugged on the string for some light. Aunt Petunia shut the cupboard door and he heard the bolt slide across. He didn't mind though. Now he got to play with the train. He kneeled on his mattress that took up most of the area and sped the train along the small shelf where Uncle Vernon sometimes kept his nails and things. The dangling bulb in the cupboard kept knocking the side of his head as he played, so he sat back down facing the other way and ran the train along the indentation of the stairs against the wall and over his head._

_He did that for a whole hour._

_Later on that evening Harry had held the little train in his small fist all evening, feeling so happy at being given the small gift, when __Dudley__ finally noticed something in Harry's hand._

_'What's that he's got?' he yelled, food spraying out of his wet drooling lips._

_'What, son?' Uncle Vernon asked looking up from his steak._

_Harry felt his heart sink and gripped the train tighter, quickly shoving his hand under the table out of sight._

_'It's in his hand, Daddy. SHOW ME, SHOW ME,' __Dudley__ screamed, his fork banging on the tablecloth. Harry stared down at his plate, his heart now starting to beat faster._

_'Boy,' his uncle snarled, his moustache shaking and his heavy brows furrowing. 'Show me what you've got in your hand.' _

_Harry hesitated and his uncle glowered at him. He slowly put his hand out onto the table and opened his fingers._

_'That's mine!' __Dudley__ immediately screamed, his face scrunching up and going bright red. 'That's my train!' He began to cry crocodile tears and howled. 'Daddy, he took my train! WAAAAAA.'_

_Uncle Vernon looked furious and loomed over the table, snatching away the red train from Harry's hand. 'How dare you?' he growled, his eyebrows creasing deeply and his lips curling hatefully. He looked so angry. _

_'But __Dudley__ didn't want it,' Harry spoke up in a small voice as Uncle Vernon gave the train back to __Dudley_

_'I do want it!!' __Dudley__ screamed, gripping the toy tightly._

_His uncle looked at Harry murderously. 'Go to your cupboard you horrible ingrate. Go on, go.' He pointed to the corridor, his arm outstretched rigidly. _

_'But…' Harry looked at his unfinished dinner and Uncle Vernon threw his napkin on the table and moved towards Harry, shaking the whole table as he did. He picked up the plate from in front of Harry. 'This is a lesson, Boy. No dinner or breakfast for you. This is what happens to nasty little thieves!'_

_'But…'Harry said again, peering at his aunt to perhaps help him out. But his aunt carried on eating, not meeting his gaze, not offering a word in Harry's defence. _

_Uncle Vernon looked furious and slammed the plate down onto the table, the food jumping off the ceramic and onto the patterned table linen. He grabbed Harry's elbow, jostling the chairs as he did and dragged him into the passage. He flung open the cupboard door and threw Harry into it roughly._

_Harry felt tears of pain spark his eyes and he rubbed his arm as he sat miserably on his makeshift bed._

_The next morning as he came out of his cupboard, he had almost stepped onto the broken pieces of the little red train. He had stared at it mournfully and had dropped to his knees in the passage, picking up the fragments. The little train was broken. All broken. His lips trembled and he looked at the pieces sadly. He had wondered if he could somehow fix it but the fat sod had stepped on it good and proper and the bits were crushed beyond repair. The little red train hadn't done anything to Dudley, why was he so mean and horrible? Harry had only been able to play with the train for a little while and now it was gone._

From that point onwards he had known he really shouldn't ask his aunt for anything. It always came with a price.

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts and flopped onto his bed. He didn't even look towards his cupboard nowadays. He couldn't imagine how he had spent nearly ten years in that small dark hole. Like an unwanted animal locked up in a cage. How had he survived it? But he had. And it made him feel bitter and angry and ashamed. He really disliked the Dursleys. He did. It was almost amusing how much they hated him and were now suffering in his presence.

He smiled then and turned over onto his side.

* * *

Two hours later, Harry was still in the same position on his bed and staring up at the ceiling. He needed to use the toilet but could not be bothered to move. He had managed a certain level of stillness that required him not to move at all - and he found that if he just stared at one spot on the wall, then he could will the hours to go by seamlessly. So he hadn't used the toilet, even though his bladder had been complaining for an hour.

His ears pricked as he heard heavy footsteps thudding up the stairs. He lifted himself up and swung his legs over the bed and got up and opened his door. As he came out onto the landing, he could see Dudley coming up from behind the banisters.

'One of these days you'll go right through the steps,' Harry smiled tauntingly as Dudley huffed his way to the top of the stairs. His jowls shook with the effort and his face was beetroot red. Harry could see Dudley turning into his father in a few years, a blond version of him. His uncle's bulk had grown considerably over the years and Dudley was following into his footsteps and starting his obesity at an even younger age. Apparently all that muscle from last year had turned back into fat. Dudley now glared at him and looked like he was about to move past Harry, when Harry swiftly backed up and went around him into the bathroom. He snickered as he locked the door and heard Dudley's muffled shout.

'Hey! I was about to use the toilet!'

'Too bad,' Harry yelled back, 'you'll have to use the downstairs one, though probably you'd have wet yourself in the five minutes it will take you to climb back down.'

'Just you wait you _freak_!' Dudley shouted angrily and Harry heard him clomping downstairs again.

Harry grinned and used the toilet leisurely and then took his time to wash his hands. He dried them and then went back into his room and lay back down again.

A few hours later there was a hesitant knock on his door. He didn't say anything and the knock came again followed by the door creaking open slightly.

'Umm,' his aunt cleared her throat. 'You didn't come down for dinner so I thought that you might like something to eat.' It almost looked as if she was about to enter his room further for a second but then she stepped back, nervously perhaps; he couldn't be sure.

Harry looked at her in surprise but didn't answer. He briefly wondered why she hadn't used the cat flap but decided that he didn't really care.

She stood still for a moment, watching him with veiled eyes before lowering the tray to the floor and then shutting the door quietly behind her.

He didn't move from his bed till the sun went down and the room was finally swamped in darkness. It was amazing how many things became visible to the eye in the dark when your eyes grew accustomed to the blackness. He lifted himself up on his elbows and spied the steely flash of the tray on the floor. He was hungry he realised. He hadn't had lunch had he?

He crept over his bed and laid on his stomach, dangling his arms out and reaching for the tray. He pulled it over and up onto the bed. Drawing himself on his knees he switched on the small bedside lamp, his pupils immediately reacting to the sudden light.

He looked at the tray. There was a large bowl of cold pasta salad, a small bottle of dressing, a bread roll and a bottle of orange juice. He crossed his legs and unscrewed the cap off the dressing and tipped some out, mixing it in with his fork. He suddenly felt ravenous and gulped the food down quickly, munching the bread as he went along. After finishing, he laid the tray back on the floor and picked up his bottle of juice and popped off the top. He plumped up his pillows and rested against them, drinking slowly, savouring the tangy taste on his tongue.

It was odd, laying here in a semi-dark room. Alone - and just laying about. Not doing anything at all. It was decidedly odd.

He squinted at the alarm clock on the desk. It was late but not late enough to go to sleep just because of the lateness of the hour. Sleep wouldn't come to him because he wanted it. Even if he asked for it, coaxed it, enticed it. It wouldn't come. So he finished off his drink, threw the empty bottle onto the floor, flicked off the small lamp and was once again consumed by darkness.

He started to cough and once it passed, he ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth out of habit. He still hadn't been able to shake off the feeling of when the warm blood used to fill his mouth when his throat seized. He still always checked automatically for an after taste of blood. He had become so used to the taste of his blood. As if he were his own personal drinking fountain of blood. Unlike saliva, blood had an actual taste and for weeks he had that taste in his mouth during every hour he was awake not able to taste anything else.

There had been times when he had been terrified, with irrational fear, that he might be literally puking his guts out. There was all this blood coming up from inside him, and it had been dark and thick. It wasn't the thought of dying that had alarmed him; it was the thought of dying slowly and watching the life drain away from him that had at times caused a spark of fear at night before he took his potions. But most of the times he hadn't cared. He had accepted his fate, and had resigned himself to the actuality that he was going to throw up his internal organs in intervals of bloody mess.

He settled further into his pillows and took a few deep breaths and switched off the light. He liked the_ initial_ feeling of darkness. Everything was pitch black and you could be waving your hands in front of your face and you couldn't see them at all. See nothing. He couldn't hear anything either.

So he lay in darkness. And quite liked it.

And eventually fell asleep. In black velvet.

* * *

The next morning Harry woke early. He used the toilet, had a shower and even dressed in a set of clothes. His trousers were too wide at the waist and too high at the ankle. They looked like jack-ups. They looked bad. Like he cared. He had bothered to dress himself; that was news in itself. He threw on a white t-shirt that drowned his chest and then ran his fingers through his sopping hair.

Hedwig clucked in her cage and flew out of the door, landing on his shoulder heavily. He petted her and sat down on the bed. After a minute, she jumped off and landed on his trunk that still lay unopened at the side of his bed. As she tapped across it, he looked at his desk and stared at the various unopened letters. He had received mail but hadn't opened any of the letters. He couldn't quite bring himself to, seeing that everyone who had sent them seemed so far away now.

He looked away as Hedwig nibbled on his fingers and then got up and went over to the desk. He immediately recognised Ron's scrawl, Hermione's neat and tiny writing, Hagrid, Lupin and…Draco's. He picked up Draco's letter and held it carefully in his fingers. He felt his heart tumble achingly and quickly put the envelope down. He almost couldn't bear to read what had been written in these letters. He didn't want to hope for anything. They weren't here. They were so distant and he was here. It would hurt to read the words they had written. It was better to disconnect one self - it was better for him.

It was stiflingly hot in his room and he opened his window. The cool breeze wafted in for a moment before going still again. It was going to be another scorching day. He wondered for a moment if he should go downstairs and switch on the fan, he could stand right in front of it and let it blow cold whooshes of air at him. He could put it on the highest level it would go and just stand there to overcome the heat.

He decided he would do just that. He picked up his tray from last night and went downstairs. He caught sight of the clock. It was seven thirty in the morning. His aunt was already in the kitchen, sitting by the table and sipping a cup of tea. Her actions stilled as Harry walked into the kitchen.

'Would you like some breakfast?' she said and he again felt a jolt of surprise at her words.

He placed the tray by the sink and nodded, 'yeah I'll have some toast maybe, thanks.'

She nodded, looking at him over her tea cup. He opened up the bread holder and took out a loaf of bread. He took out a knife from the knife drawer and started to slice himself two pieces of bread.

The scrape of the knife against crust was the only sound in the otherwise silent kitchen.

He popped his bread into the toaster and went to the fridge. He could feel his aunt's eyes following his movements. He took out the bottle of milk and held it up.

She blinked at him and then looked at him, 'yes, of course, help yourself.'

He nodded and closed the fridge. He poured himself a glass of milk and was drinking it by the counter, waiting for his toast to pop up, when Uncle Vernon came into the kitchen. He was dressed for work. Grey trousers done up under his large protruding belly, a white shirt in the largest possible size perhaps and a blue tie. What day was it? Harry wondered. He had no idea. Time didn't really mean anything to him, everyday was the same.

Harry could see his uncle clench his jaw tightly and his moustache quivered at the sight of Harry standing so casually in the kitchen, drinking a glass of milk so freely and unconcernedly. Harry relished the last drops of milk and met his uncle's eyes nonchalantly before he rinsed out the glass in the sink and last night's dishes.

'I will be at a meeting for lunch, Petunia, in case you call.' His uncle said sitting down at the table. 'I will be back about two o' clock.'

'All right, dear,' his aunt replied. She got up and picked up an already made tea and toast from the counter and presented it to his uncle.

Harry then turned his back to them as his toast sprung up and started to butter it.

The atmosphere in the kitchen was very strained and you could have twanged the strings if air had been a violin, Harry thought, licking a smidgen of butter off his finger.

Uncle Vernon was now eating breakfast. Chewing his toast, sipping his tea. The wet noise of food being eaten made Harry curl his lip. He took a big bite of his own toast, still standing up, still with his back to his aunt and uncle. He crunched and chewed, his eating noises competing with his uncles.

Crunch.

Sip.

Chew.

Swallow.

Crunch.

Chew

Swallow.

And the silence continued to hug around the food noises.

His uncle cleared his throat a few moments later. His sipping and chewing now having ceased.

'Dudders asleep?'

'Yes.'

'Mmmm, well make sure he packs everything so we are all organised for tomorrow.'

'I will.'

Harry could again hear his uncle snuffle and snort as he finished his toast. It was a most discomforting sound.

'What time did he get in last night?' his uncle obviously still talking to his aunt.

'Um I'm not too sure…'

'Mmmm,' his uncle murmured. Harry ate the last piece of his bread and rinsed out his knife. He turned around and looked towards the table before leaving the kitchen. He heard his uncle mutter something angrily as he left. Yes, it was definitely amusing being a nuisance to the Dursleys.

Later on that evening, Harry was back in his room, his door slightly ajar. His uncle had come back from work and Harry could hear thumps and clicks coming from the master bedroom. He was saying something loudly and Harry flicked open his door wider and settled back on his bed.

'…. not comfortable leaving him here alone with you,' he was saying. Harry couldn't really hear what his aunt said in reply. There was thudding as footsteps came nearer to his room and the bathroom door opened.

'… he is an ungrateful sod, that's what he is,' his uncle said. 'He's been acting even more strangely than before,' Harry could hear him say loudly, even though he was in the toilet opening the cabinets. More footsteps back towards his uncle's bedroom. 'You don't know what he is capable of. All those bloody people sending letters. Who do they think they are? We have given him food and a roof over his head, what more do they want? Why can't they just take him? Why do we have to suffer him every summer? Look at him! He looks like a drug addict. I wouldn't be surprised if he was one of those…those ''_junkies'_',' he hissed. 'If he wants to die, why doesn't he do it whilst he is still at school? Why is he _insisting_ in wasting away here? Why are _they_ insisting he waste away here?'

Harry smiled wryly as his uncle bellowed. 'They don't want to pay for his funeral that's why. That's why they are off loading him when he is like this. Well I'm not going to pay for anything and that's final. _Do you hear that, Boy_?' his uncle yelled out more loudly, and Harry assumed his uncle wanted an answer.

'Yes, Uncle Vernon,' he called out, bizarrely feeling a bubble of laughter crack in his chest.

'I don't know, Petunia,' his uncle's muffled voice could still be heard fairly clearly from the depths of his bedroom. 'What if he decided to commit suicide here? What if he decides to die here? What if that ''_thing'_' comes after him and kills him here?'

'…Vernon, the boy is safe here, I told you and they are keeping guard to make sure we are not harmed…' his aunt sounded close. She was coming out onto the landing heading to the airing cupboard.

'Well still, look at him,' his uncle insisted. 'He might just die anyway. What if he is sick again? What do we do with him then? They better come and get him if anything goes wrong. I don't see why we have to put up with this nonsense.'

Harry got up and chose not to hear anymore of his uncle's tirade. He knew what his uncle was worried about. What if ''The Boy'' committed suicide or just died here and they would have to suffer the embarrassment of having a _dead body_ being taken out of the house. What would the neighbours think? Oh the shame, the humiliation.

Harry wondered what would happen if he _did_ kill himself? Just to piss them off. Not the fact that he was dead, because _obviously _they would be celebrating that – but just the way he could kill himself. He could do it really messily and leave blood all over the place and it would be really amusing to see their faces when they found him. To know that they would have to clean his mess up. Blood was really hard to get out of carpet and sheets. It would send Aunt Petunia into frenzy. It would be almost worth it – to kill himself just to piss them off. And them having to deal with all the awkwardness of a teen suicide in their home.

Gosh WHAT would the neighbours definitely say then? Harry smirked to himself. It would almost be worth it.

* * *

Aunt Petunia asked him to come downstairs for dinner and so he did. He was sure his uncle was seething in having his company at the table but Harry ate as if he couldn't feel the vile looks his uncle and cousin were throwing his way.

He had surmised that his uncle and Dudley were going away on a father and son camping trip to the Midlands. He had sensed a lot of tension between Dudley and his parents, especially Uncle Vernon, since he had been back. All was not well with dear Dudders and mummy and daddy. He had caught snippets of conversation where he overheard Aunt Petunia worrying that Dudley may be involved with a bad crowd who were influencing him wrongly.

Harry had sniggered; his aunt would always be in denial when it came to her precious son. Always making excuses for him, covering up for him. It seemed that Uncle Vernon had purposely found a local youth's club where they arranged father and son outings such as fishing and camping and had signed up himself and Dudley.

Harry tried to imagine them both stuffed into a tent and felt satisfied in knowing that they both would probably have a horrible time. They would, he knew it. His uncle was going to try and talk to Dudley as if he was ten years old and Dudley would be disinterested and bored. Both of them were also mini elephants and the fact that they were going on a walking holiday was rather comical. Dudley's practitioner had probably encouraged exercise and fresh air and Uncle Vernon probably wanted to reconnect with his son before he grew up and moved out, only to visit when he wanted money and clothes laundered.

Harry carried on chewing and eating indifferently. He wondered why Aunt Petunia wasn't going away somewhere too. Was it because she didn't want to get away? Or she was forced in some way to take care of Harry over the summer? Harry couldn't believe for a second that she was staying with him out of the goodness of her heart. He guessed he wasn't nine years old anymore and able to be shipped off to Mrs Figg.

He remembered a time when he had been eight years old and Mrs Figg hadn't been able to mind him after school. His aunt and Dudley were going out and they didn't want to leave Harry alone in the house in case he wrecked it somehow – so his aunt had told him in the morning to wait for his uncle to pick him up at five o' clock outside school.

_Harry had stayed in school till it had closed and then in the playground for as long as he could; kicking the leaves around on his own. But then the caretaker had come at __five thirty__ and asked him to leave the grounds so that they could lock up the front gates. Harry had then sat on the pavement outside school waiting for his uncle. He read his reading book five times and then sat bored and alone, as the sky grew darker and colder._

_It started to rain and six o' clock came and went. His brown corduroy trousers were sodden and his large jumper clung to him wetly. His hair was plastered down onto his head and the raindrops spattered against his glasses and dripped off his nose. He had started to shiver and was completely soaked – he remembered that clearly. He realised that his uncle had probably forgotten about him or his aunt hadn't told him – maybe something had happened._

_At __six thirty__ he decided that he should walk home._

_It took nearly an hour to walk home. The rain had been chucking it down and he had been drenched and miserable as he squelched down the road and approached the house. His trainer had a small hole on the toe and even his socks were saturated with rain water. He dropped his school bag with a cold and limp hand onto the doorstep and rang the doorbell. His aunt opened the door._

_'Oh,' she had said, looking down her long nose, her lips peeling back against her slightly protruding teeth distastefully. She looked at him critically as he stared up at her, sopping and bedraggled. 'Get in, hurry up,' she snapped as she motioned him in. 'Your uncle's meeting is running late. I had better phone him and tell him not to go over to the school.'_

_Harry stood dripping on the welcome mat as she scurried off to the phone and phoned his uncle. His wet clothes felt so heavy and he sniffed and wiped his glasses, making them even more blurry and unfocused. She then shooed him off to the bathroom to dry off and Harry could hear __Dudley__ snickering at the sight of him. His cheeks were smarting with embarrassment and he felt humiliated as __Dudley__ laughed, 'ha ha,' outside. He quickly dried his body and wriggled into his dry clothes quickly._

He swallowed now and shifted in his chair. He could feel his aversion for these people rise inside of him as he sat in silence listening to their cutlery clink together. He wondered now, how come no one noticed that he had been such a skinny wretch? Why no one cared enough to step in? But no one had at that time. But probably no one had cared. He knew that. He had always known that.

And that is why no one had cared that he had been stuffed in a cupboard like an old coat. He touched his forkful of lamb to some mustard before putting it into his mouth and thought it would not have killed the Dursleys to have shown him some understanding and compassion. He would not have expected gifts from them, because he knew that he was not their son and they would never treat him like one. But they could have treated him civilly. No, it would not have killed them to treat a small child like a human being. He had been little and pathetic and now it was funny how they were afraid of him to an extent. Like he was a walking time bomb bringing chaos and destruction to their otherwise peaceful household.

Harry chewed his lamb, over and over in his mouth. The moist juice from the sauce had long gone and he was left with tasteless rubbery meat in his mouth. He swallowed it down with some water.

'Oh, Dudders, you have a scratch on your cheek,' his aunt spoke up, looking concerned as she examined Dudley's face. 'Where did you get that from?'

Dudley was in the midst of shoving another forkful into his mouth, 'dunno,' he shrugged and chewed his food wetly.

His aunt nodded and continued to heap up her fork with sparrow like portions.

Harry watched the scene with a detached eye. Scratch. It was hardly a red mark. A spot that Dudley had picked; a cut from shaving. But Aunt Petunia always got so flustered at the sight of her poor Dudley hurt.

Harry felt his stomach twist bitterly as he recalled a memory of when he was five or six.

_His aunt had taken him and Dudley to the park. It was had been a large park with monkey bars, swings and a large steel slide. She had been perched on a nearby bench as he and Dudley scrambled towards the play area. Dudley, of course, tugged at an occupied swing and pushed off a little girl with pigtails, who had been swinging quite happily up until that point. She looked shocked and scared as the large boy sneered at her and sat his big bottom into the seat. She made a face and walked off and Harry stayed away from the swings and meandered towards the bars._

_Twenty minutes or so had passed and Harry walked over towards the large steel slide. His feet crunched on the gravel and bits of loose stone, as he approached it and then made his way to the ladder. He hitched up his oversized trousers and eyed the ladder carefully. It was very high, but he determinedly grasped the red painted bars and started to climb. In a few moments, he had made his way up and stood at the top of the slide, feeling the slight breeze touch his dark hair. He smiled happily and sat down, positioning his legs forward and holding onto the sides lightly. He pushed himself off and gleefully started to slide down. As he reached the bottom he felt a whoosh behind him and a rough shove. He went tumbling off the end of the slide and onto the gravel._

_Dudley had somehow scrambled behind him and managed to slide down, also now falling off the end and landing on his bottom. He let out a loud screech and his aunt came racing to pick him up. Meanwhile Harry, who had fallen flat on his face, sat himself up. His knee, elbows and palms burned and he felt his eyes water. He had grazed his palms - red marks accompanied with bits of grey stone and dirt. He felt his right knee sting and looked at it fearfully through the freshly made hole in his trousers. It was bleeding and looked all gloopy and had bits of gravel pressed into it. His elbows hurt, the thin large T-shirt he wore offering him no protection as he fell. He bit his lip as he felt tears start to choke his throat. He held his hands out, scared to touch them against anything. He bent his knees gingerly, his eyes searching for his aunt. There she was. She was clutching Dudley - who appeared quite unharmed - fiercely in her arms._

_Harry felt the tears rise in his throat and fall down his cheeks and he started to cry quietly. He sniffed and wiped his tears with the back of his hand under his lenses. His small lips dropped as he felt more tears leak out his eyes and he tried to wipe his nose, as he sat on the gravel waiting to be held too._

_'Diddykins, I told you to be careful,' his aunt in the meantime was lamenting and __Dudley__ howled louder. She got up, lifting __Dudley__ into her arms - with some difficulty mind, for he was a large and a heavy child. Harry remained on the ground as his aunt looked over at him._

_'Get up, we're going home,' her eyes swept over him and stilled at his face for a moment. He looked at her and for a moment he thought she was going to come over and comfort him too, like she had Dudley. But her eyes cut away quickly and he knew instantly that she wasn't. He got up, carefully trying to rise without the use of his hands and tenderly trailed after her with his hurt leg._

_It wasn't till they had reached the house and she had sat __Dudley__ on the sofa with a glass of coke in front of the TV, did she tend to Harry. She made no comments at his reddened eyes and quietly cleaned his palms and knee with a damp washcloth._

_'Do you want a plaster?' she asked in a toneless voice._

_Harry was afraid to ask for a plaster. They were Dudley's favourite. They were blue with dinosaurs. He shook his head quickly and his aunt pressed her lips together tightly. She picked up his ruined trousers and looked at them crossly._

_'Another pair of trousers you've ruined,' she shook her head looking displeased. 'Go and get into your pyjamas.'_

_And Harry had walked to his cupboard and slithered into his clothes, wincing as the material rubbed against the raw wound on his knee and elbows. He had known from that day onwards never to expect comfort from his aunt._

He looked at her now, and she met his eyes falteringly. His eyes frightened her, heck they frightened all of them. None of them looked at him directly to his face. He supposed he did look quite awful and after all he didn't have to look at himself so wasn't that affected by his terrible appearance. She passed him a bowl of roast potatoes and he took it from her slightly astonished again. He looked at his plate and found it devoid of potatoes. He had eaten them and she was offering him a second helping.

Dudley scowled at him and he muttered a quiet thanks, before his uncle noticed. She nodded and looked down again and Harry felt awkward and strange. He couldn't figure her out and wondered who had threatened her to the point that she was acting so considerate towards him. Dudley grabbed the bowl after him with a glare and finished off the rest of the potatoes as Harry completed his meal.

It was nearly eleven o' clock at night when Harry was coming out of the bathroom and his uncle came up stairs.

'Dudders!' he shouted out. 'Get to bed. We have an early start in the morning and I don't want to have to wait for you.' He stopped mid-step for an answer.

'Whatever,' came Dudley's voice and Uncle Vernon shouted again.

_'Dudders!'___

And Dudley yelled out a frustrated, 'oh God, yeah ALL RIGHT,' in reply.

Uncle Vernon breathed in heavily looking infuriated and then continued to climb up the stairs

Harry tried to weave around his uncle towards his room as his uncle came to the landing, when he blocked Harry's path.

'Listen to me, Boy,' he scowled in a sneering voice.

Harry listened, meeting his uncle's eyes squarely.

'I don't want any_ funny _business while I'm gone. Your aunt is a good woman putting up with you and I don't want you acting like a _layabout _whilst I'm not here.'

He waited for Harry to respond and in return Harry sighed. His uncle gathered a large breath somewhere in his belly and lifted his small neck higher.

'I'm warning _you_. If I come back and find that you've been acting up, you'll be wishing that you really had _died_ you hear me?'

Harry tilted his head and gazed at his beefy uncle, 'yes, Uncle Vernon. Anything else?'

His uncle pointed a meaty finger towards his face in a threatening way and Harry leant back and then went onwards to his bedroom. He shut the door behind him and listened to his uncle go to his bedroom.

Not bothering to change into his night attire, Harry took off his clothes and slipped into bed. It took him a while to fall asleep and it was nearing two in the morning by the time deep slumber overtook him.

He was in a midst of a strange dream when he suddenly found himself back in the alley. There was instant panic inside his mind as he ran back towards the door…he was reaching for it and it was getting closer…

But then he felt _it_ go in, like he always did.

'Hello, Harry,' and then his mouth was clamped shut as he fought to scream against the spidery fingers.

He screamed himself hoarse and no one heard him. He could feel the hand pressing against his lips; he could feel the unbelievable pain in his stomach. It was so real like it always was when he dreamt this nightmare.

_'This will hurt. It will hurt so much you will beg me for death,_' Voldemort hissed in cruel amusement. '_Though the bearded fool did say that there are things much worse than death.__ I guess you'll find out won't you, Harry? Once you are dead you will be able to reflect upon whether it is true or not.' _

And death would have been better than this. He couldn't bear to relive the torture he had endured that night. Yet it was happening all over again and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't wake up just like he hadn't been able to get away that night. He was helpless all over again. He was pinned back against that brick wall and could feel his blood ooze out of him - feel the fresh raw pain rip through him. He wanted to die all over again - only death could save him now - he knew that.

_'Qui agnoscit mortem, cognoscit artem_,' the words whispered in his ear and he instantly knew what they meant.

'_'He who has knowledge of death knows the art of dominating it.''_

He now understood all the words Voldemort had uttered that night but it didn't matter that he did. He was still drowning in agony - feeling the blackness veil his vision - feeling the sword embed itself in him. He couldn't breathe, he was dying and he was suffocating. He was choking on his own blood and it was pouring out of his mouth….he was going to die…

He tried to scream…

There was a loud _screech!_ And he gasped for breath as his eyes flew open. His heart was beating rapidly in terror and he was drenched in sweat. What the hell was that noise? Was that him screaming?

Where was he? He tried to think… tried to calm down. He was in his bedroom. He was in Privet Drive. The noise was coming from Hedwig's cage. She was flapping loudly and shrieking. He threw his covers back and scrambled out of his bed. His scar on his stomach was throbbing and he could hardly breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take a few deep breaths. It was only a dream.

Only a nightmare.

His eyes snapped open again and he looked at Hedwig in her cage. She was hooting at him and he tried to stop wheezing.

His bedroom door flew open and his uncle stood in the doorway, a large and formidable figure in cream pyjama's and wild bed hair.

'_What the HELL is that noise_? You better shut that bird up!' he shouted. Harry tried to breathe slower so he could speak. He couldn't so he simply nodded.

'_What the hell is the matter with you?_ We're trying to sleep here.'. He'He glared at Harry and Harry dropped his head, watching his uncle's shadow elongate across the floor as he moved slightly into the room.

'What's the matter, Boy? Are you having an asthma attack?'

'No,' Harry said, his hand pressing against his heartbeat. 'I'll be fine.' He swallowed and felt his muscles relax a little. 'I'll be fine, it's okay. Sorry.'

His uncle shook his head and he looked revolted. 'Get back to bed and keep _quiet_,' he spat out as he slammed the bedroom door behind him.

Harry was trembling as he stood by his bed in the dark room. He suddenly felt his stomach lurch and felt himself heave. He quickly went to the door and opened it and hurried to the bathroom. He just made it to the sink as he threw up in one large mouthful. There was no blood. Just vague scraps of vomit mixed with his saliva. He threw up a little more and then lowered his head on his arms against the sink's edge. He was shaking and he was cold. And it had been a dream.

He didn't think he ought to waste a potion. He normally didn't dream more than once a night and sometimes he hardly slept till the sun broke through his curtains. The morning didn't seem to welcome nightmares like the dark did. He splashed some water on his face and rinsed his mouth out. A minute later he silently padded back to his room and shut his door gently. He took in a deep breath and sat on his bed. He really didn't want to try and sleep right now.

He sat still for a few moments contemplating and then got up and went to his bedside drawer. He took out a large candle and some matches. Lighting it, he went over to his desk and dripped some wax onto a piece of paper and stuck the candle onto it. This was the same candle he had lit for Sirius when he had arrived back at Privet Drive.

He had realised in the first week of holidays that he had forgotten Sirius's death anniversary. Consumed with guilt he had lit the candle and dropped to his knees, thinking out words of forgiveness to the great unknown. He hoped Sirius would have forgiven him for his thoughtlessness. He had let the candle burn on its own accord that night and then the flame had gone out and he had put it back in his drawer.

Now he stood watching the flickering flame shudder from the slight wind of the open window. He looked at Hedwig and she seemed to have settled down and gone back to sleep. He went ahead and closed the window. The room was warmer and it wasn't so dark and he didn't feel so alone. The glow of the flame lit up its surrounding and Harry let out a long breath and then lay back down in his bed. He would let the candle burn throughout the night. It would keep him company till he fell asleep.

He lay quietly, trying to breathe steadily. He listened to the sounds of the pipes running through the rooms, a door shutting somewhere in the distance, a cat meowing in the street, a dog barking, a distant drone of a car driving past. He suddenly thought of the mirror that Sirius had given him, which was now repaired but hidden deep down in his trunk. He had been so close to seeing Sirius again… he had so nearly died. His uncle must have been so disappointed that he _hadn't_ died. And _he_ had got so close to getting rid of Harry. If it was any consolation to his family, Harry had thought himself that he had in fact died, only to realise that he hadn't. He wondered if Sirius knew when he had died; did you just know at the point of death that this was it? You were going to die?

It was weird. Everyone was going to die eventually and most people had no idea how they were going to die. But Harry knew it. He just knew it. Intrinsically. Inherently. He was going to die at Voldemort's hands. It was going to happen. He wasn't going to live long at all, not the way things were going. He knew he was supposed to be the one to kill Voldemort but he knew now, that Voldemort _was_ going to kill him. Harry couldn't escape forever and his luck was going to run out.

He wondered if Voldemort would take a hold of his body again and use him…get him to kill himself? Because that could be done. Quite easily. He wondered how long he had left…

Was there much point in _living_, when you knew your days were numbered? And it was only a matter of time before you were murdered? Harry couldn't afford to live _really_; he didn't see the point of starting a life when it was going to be over quite soon. He would just bide his time, he figured and without magic he was completely helpless really. Voldemort was just waiting for an opportunity and it would come. He was getting stronger and though his aunt kept the papers away from him and always switched off the news around him, Harry knew that people were dying day by day at Voldemort's bidding.

He watched the flickering flame as it swayed in a large shadow against the wall. The tear-drop end tippingping shakily left and right. A faint hiss of the wax as it slipped onto the desk. The glow diminished momentarily and Harry touched his scar on his stomach, feeling the ridges on his skin.

Yes, it was only a matter of time.

TBC…

* * *

Karina bleching: Well it was a long chapter at least… I had issues with this chapter and didn't feel at all confident if anyone would like it. I did—but a lot of the time it doesn't matter if the writer loves a chapter-it's the audience reaction that counts. I don't think my beta was all too thrilled with this one either so if you didn't like it then you're in good company! Hehee

I'm not trying to make Harry a 'victim'- I just really believe a child from his background would have had experiences like this. I don't think the Dursleys beat him—but mental abuse and neglect is very hard on a small child and I think the character of Harry would be very bitter about his treatment in the long run when he looks back at his childhood.

I hope I have somewhat explained Harry's behaviour towards certain things…and obviously there is a lot more to come. Lol

Chapter twelve is ALL Draco in France so will have a different feel entirely.

**NOTE: I have shamelessly taken the title from ****S****ch****umann****'s-Scenes from a childhood. It always manages to make me smile and depress the hell out of me at the same time- so it kinda seemed fitting here.**

**Thanks to**: White-Winged-Sihde, Epiphanys-Curse , Arianna , yafit **-For Reviewing The Chariot**

**Thanks to**: Magic-Elf- **For reviewing With A Kiss**

**Thanks to**: Soft Willow, Rowenna, Marshes to Banks, Fire Oranie, Nyx, LMG, Robin the bird, coetzee b, frogslayr, destinywriters, May, Draco's Punk Rock Chick, Esrinthly, Bad-Azz-Slytherin Chaos, riantlykalopsic, go9bbledy, Eyecandi18, ura, boysaresmelly, Clo Veridian, AbundantFear, Belle, SeparatriX, joEy1607, **Chi,** Peilless, Ginnybhhr, RSSLSCTZ , Jacqueline91, coolio, Tobi , TonksLovesTheClash/booklust(LJ), tsubasagahoushi, Alora, Dragenphly, AsheslovesHarry, Epiphanys-Curse , AriannaLisa , yafit, Cordelia-lolly- **For reviewing The Hermit **


	12. The Tides Of Summer

**Disclaimer: Miss Rowling wrote HP- I didn't – so legally she has all the rights to her wonderful creation!**

**Thank you to my darling lil beta Coffeecat who helped tweak this chapter and had me feed Draco something other than seafood! :o)**

* * *

**The Tides of Summer**

Draco lay on the beach soaking up the intense heat of the midday sun. He was alone, thank God, and planned to enjoy every moment of peace he had in the quiet. Ever since he had arrived in Saint-Tropez, it had been non-stop and constant. Seeing his family, having dinners and parties and going to lunches. Everyday had been packed with social events and finally he had become adamant in wanting a moment's respite to himself. He had got up extra early this morning and snuck down to the beach before anyone spotted him and tucked himself in a corner so he would not be disturbed. Hopefully.

As soon as the school term had ended and he had arrived home, he found that his mother had already packed three large trunks of luggage and was ready to leave for France the next day. He had already known that his mother didn't want to stay in Wiltshire for a moment longer than necessary.

He guessed he could also use a change of scenery and get away from everything. If his father wasn't released from jail in the next year or so, he wondered if his mother would want them to move to France permanently after he left school. He hoped she didn't. He really didn't want to… he knew things were difficult with Harry for the time being but he still wanted to remain in the same country as Harry.

With Harry preferably.

Somehow.

If fate ever decided to be on his side.

The sea gulls squawked overhead and he cracked open an eye as a flock of them dived near the rocks. He lifted himself up on his elbows and squinted up at the sun. The warm glaze shimmered in the air in front of his eyes and the blue sea spanned an endless sight as it shone under the incandescent light. His aunt and uncle owned a huge estate overlooking the Riviera and had a private beach of their own.

The beach was a large expanse of white, fine-grained sand – so soft that it trickled from between your fingers as you sifted your hands through it. It was rather lovely and serene. There was no clutter or noise and private land was the best way to enjoy the calm and quiet. The plot of Wizarding land was vast in the Wizarding town his father's family lived in - Tresor.

France had many Wizarding towns, unlike England, and Tresor was a particularly affluent Wizarding community in the south of France. His father's cousin, Uncle Xavier had been brought up here and once he had married he had decided to live in the family home. No doubt Thierry, his uncle's son, would inherit all this one day just as Uncle Xavier had done. Draco recalled coming here when he was younger and playing with Thierry and Sabine as his father and mother spent time with Uncle Xavier and Aunt Colette.

Aunt Colette and his mother had become fast friends once his mother had married his father and ever since his father had been imprisoned, his mother came here often to seek refuge. It was like her second home and Draco was very grateful that they had been so accommodating to her.

His stomach suddenly started to rumble and he guessed that it must be approaching midday - the sun was so high up and scorching its rays all around.

'Avie?' he called out and then laid his head back down on the soft particles of sand.

A few seconds later a house-elf appeared by his side. She was ugly as ugly things were, but not too ugly for a house-elf.

'Monsieur Malfoy, you called?'

He opened his eyes again, 'umm, yes, oui ehh I'd like some lunch? Le dejeuner?'

'Oui, Monsieur Malfoy. You would like to eet down ere?

'Yes please and don't tell anyone that I'm here. I don't want to be disturbed. Umm, just let my mother know that I will be back at the house at, ehh, trois heure?'

'Oui, Monsieur,' the elf nodded and with a snap of her fingers she vanished.

He sighed and settled back down once more and closed his eyes against the intense light. He hadn't ever bothered to learn French properly. His parents had tried to teach him when he was younger but he hadn't wanted to and had sulked for hours whenever they had tried to have him take lessons. He had also always been too arrogant. He had come to the assumption that if anyone wanted to speak to him they would just have to speak to him in English or to not bother at all.

He sometimes tried to say the odd word here and there to the house elf's when he wanted something done but for the most part his lack of French worked in his favour - particularly now. He didn't need to join in conversations that he could not be bothered to participate in anyway. He didn't need to go up to people and start conversations, which he didn't want to do either. And, for those of his relatives and family friends who didn't speak any English, it was all the better for him - they left him alone. However, his English-speaking cousins never left him alone, which is why he had come to seek refuge on the other side of the beach today.

Avie appeared ten minutes later with a large assortment of food on a silver tray carrying a small table in her other hand. She laid it all out for him and he smiled at her enthusiasm to please him. He missed having a capable house-elf. A few years ago at home his mother had hired a house elf from a family friend. But he had been completely incompetent. He was old and made mistakes which had frustrated Draco to no end. Capable house-elfs were a rare find and Draco always gave Dobby the evil eye whenever he happened to see him about school. Stupid house-elf wanting ''rights''. Absolutely ridiculous.A House elf's whole point of living was to serve their masters. The Wizarding world was changing all right - and in most cases not for the better.

He reached for a salmon sandwich and munched it slowly.

Since he had been in France he had sent Harry two letters, receiving no replies. It was Harry's birthday soon and he planned to send him a card, maybe a gift. Would a gift be appropriate? He wasn't sure if Harry would accept it. But it didn't seem likely that Harry would return it either. He wondered what to get him. Something small, something that didn't seem too over the top and not too obvious, something Harry would see and not reject on sight.

He polished off two more sandwiches and started on a soufflé. A pin, he mused as he felt the pastry break into melted cheese in his mouth. Maybe a robe pin - he had seen some beautiful ones in town a few days ago. He would go shopping alone later on and browse through the displays till he found the right one.

A while later, his hunger quenched, he picked up his glass of ice water and sipped it. He dug his toes into the warmed sand and looked out into the cerulean ocean. He was going to go back a week before the new term started and take his Apparition test at the ministry. His uncle had said that he could have done it at the French ministry - the paperwork could be arranged, but Draco preferred to have a British seal on his certificate. He had brought with him all the reading material he would have to do for the training and test and Thierry had said he would help him. He didn't think Harry would be able to learn Apparating this summer. He wondered when Harry would be able to.

He finished his drink and then called for Avie again. A flash of glitter and dust and Avie appeared before him nodding lowly, 'oui, Monsieur? You are finished?'

'Yeah I am, umm, also could you fetch me my writing box? It's on my desk.'

'Yes, of course, Monsieur Malfoy.' She picked up the tray and the table and vanished once again.

He pulled his fingers through his hair and flicked off some sand from his chest. In an ideal world Harry would be sitting with him at his side. It would have been really nice to have Harry here with him. Assuming that Harry could stand to be near him ever again…

'Monsieur,' Avie appeared moments later and placed a small lap table near him, setting his writing box on top of it. He nodded and she took her leave.

He rubbed his chin and picked up the table, settling it on his thighs. There was hardly any weight to the box at all. It had been crafted out of a Wizarding rosewood oak tree dating back to the eighteen hundreds and the intricate craftsmanship enabled the box to adapt to every new user. It had been left to him by his grandfather, though Draco could hardly recall any memories of the man as he had been very young when his grandfather had passed away.

He tapped the box with his wand, thinking of the secret password in his head. The box shook slightly and then unlocked itself. He had placed the drawing Harry had sent him in one of the secret compartments, along with some photos he had of his parents and himself. He ran his finger alongside the edge and decided against opening it and taking a peek. Why hurt his own feelings even more? He opened up the small drawer and took out an inkbottle, parchment and quill.

He stared blankly for a moment, thinking of what to write. He picked up the table and put it back on the sand and lay on his stomach, resting upon his elbows. He dipped his quill into the ink and hesitated for a moment before he began to write.

_Dear Harry _

_How are you? I hope you're enjoying your holidays. Perhaps you've been out somewhere nice? Since I wrote to you last, I've pretty much been doing the same stuff as I told you about before. _

_I am going out this evening for my cousin's birthday. I guess it'll be okay. The house my uncle owns is really grand. It is on the hills and the view is great from the top - you can see the entire __Riviera__ from there. French wizards are more laid back than English wizards and they drink a lot more too. Well from what I have noticed anyway. My mother loves it here. I guess it isn't so bad. _

_Well if you have the time maybe you can write back? I know I will see you when term starts. How are you feeling about going into our final year? Weird isn't it? The time has gone so quickly. I have no idea what I want to do afterwards… _

_Anyway, please take care and write if you get the chance._

_Draco_

He looked down at the short note and made a face. That was _so_ crap, but he didn't know what else to write. Harry hadn't responded to him so he had no idea if Harry was ignoring him; or perhaps he hadn't read any of the letters; maybe he hadn't even received them. But by writing a letter he felt that he at least had some contact with Harry and knew that quite possibly it would reach Harry's hands, in Harry's house, in his room. So there was some part of Draco with Harry…. in some small, lame way.

He looked at the last line and wondered if it appeared too desperate of him to ask Harry to write back. He stared at it for a moment and then decided that he would leave it the way he had written it. He did want Harry to write to him. The whole '_if you get a chance to'_ was just his way of being a polite - the words really meant _'Harry, please write as soon as you can'._

He folded the letter and called for Avie again. She got him a simple manila envelope and he addressed it to Harry with no family crest seal. He wasn't sure if anyone else would look at Harry's post before he did. He whistled for his owl and he came swooping down from his nap upon the balcony.

'Straight to Harry all right?' his owl hooted obligingly as Draco tied the letter to his leg. Draco watched as the owl took flight and then flopped down on his back. He was glad that his cousin wasn't having a party tonight. He was so sick of parties. He would sit and drink and get drunk and watch as people coupled off and made out in the corners of the room. Some would dance as a prelude to later activities and Draco would by then be outside in the gardens, morosely drunk. This is what had been happening for the last few weeks. Same thing over and over again.

And he would always meet new people who already knew who he was. He was either ''poor Draco whose father is in jail'' and get the sympathy vote as his mother was still rich and both she and Draco were good looking; good looking people got more sympathy than ugly people. Or he would be ''Draco whose father is in jail so he must be dangerously sexy'' which was also equally as irritating. He didn't want to be either of those Draco's. He wanted to be left alone but could not _not_ go to the parties and various social gatherings, otherwise his mother would fret and he didn't want that either. She had already noted his quiet demeanour when he had returned from school and had become more determined in thinking that Draco needed a good holiday with lots of parties to cheer him up. So no, he could not excuse himself from any of these events. The best he could do was nurse his glasses of alcohol and be the moody blond guy.

He turned back over onto his stomach and closed his eyes. He could feel the sun drenched heat beat down on him through the shading spell he had put up. It would run out in an hour. But it was necessary for him, he burnt so easily. He shuffled into the soft sand and let the warmth lull him into sleep.

* * *

It was probably nearing three o' clock when he woke with a start. He was asleep on the beach. He yawned lazily and rubbed his eyes. Lifting himself up, he shook the sand out of his hair and got to his feet. He quickly wiped his chest over with his towel and then sauntered up the beach towards the house.

As he neared it, he could hear his mother talking to his aunt on the veranda. He could make out a few words as they were speaking in French but couldn't be bothered to try to decipher more. He didn't really care what they were talking about to one another.

'Draco,' his mother called out as he stepped onto the terrace. 'Where have you been?'

'The beach,' he replied and kissed his mother on the cheek.

'Well you had better shower quickly and I know you haven't picked any clothes for tonight.'

'I will, mother,' he said easily and his mother rolled her eyes to his aunt who smiled widely.

He strolled into the cool spacious hallway. His feet feeling cold on the marble flooring.

'Dray-co, vhere have you been?' came a feminine voice.

His lips curled slightly, 'the beach, Sabine.'

'All morning?' his cousin asked in her soft French accent.

'Yes all morning,' he said as he moved past her and up the stairs.

'Vell we vent clothes shopping, I didn't know vat to get you.'

'No worries, I'll come up with something,' he told her and continued to climb the long staircase to the corridor where his room was. He went into his bedroom and called out to Avie.

'Yes, Monsieur?'

'Avie, it's too hot for robes tonight so I want you to get me a pair of black trousers. And shoes, the ones I chose last week at Edouard's? But I didn't get them?'

Avie nodded with quick nods of understanding.

'Also I want to wear a green shirt. You need to make sure it is Wizard silk and NOT Muggle silk, yes?'

'Yes, Monsieur,' he could see her keeping a mental list in her head as he spoke.

'But before you get my shirt made, I want you to bring me the various colours of green Edouard's has, so I can choose which shade all right?'

'Yes, Monsieur Malfoy,' Avie gave a prompt nod.

'Fine,' Draco said dropping his towel onto the bed. 'I'm going to have a shower now and something to drink perhaps. Do you think you can get me the colour samples in an hour?'

'Of course, Monsieur,' Avie gave him a shy smile.

'Fine. See you then,' Draco dismissed her with a wave and went into the bathroom. He stripped and then went into the large shower where he took his time washing himself.

Fifteen minutes later he came out of the bathroom wearing a white robe. He spotted a cup of tea and some biscuits on his desk, next to a copy of the Daily Prophet, which he insisted be delivered here.

Sitting down he munched his biscuits and looked over the paper. There was a murder of a family southwest of England. The Dark Mark had been flying high outside the house. Voldemort had clearly recruited more Death Eaters to do his will. The ministry was all over the place and Fudge was cracking under the pressure. Draco was sure the man would resign or have a breakdown quite soon. He wasn't coping at all with what was happening and something needed to be done.

There hadn't been much news about it in the French papers, Draco noted. There had been no sign as yet of Voldemort crossing the seas. So far Voldemort was England's problem, though a few members of the French ministry were trying to take precautionary tactics should there be any looming threat on their seas. It would arrive sooner or later.

Everyone he knew here thought his father had been wrongfully incarcerated as he had only been fighting for what he had believed in- Pureblood rights. His father's cousin had been very supportive and sympathetic over Pureblood politics and had helped out his father quite a bit after Voldemort's demise in the eighties – no doubt he would once again help his father out once he was released from prison. He was already sheltering his mother from any harm and as he was a pillar of the community it did not hurt his mother one bit to have such a family supporting her here in France. It helped the Malfoy credibility enormously.

Draco let out a deep breath as he carried on scanning the paper. There was no mention of Harry in today's news. He sometimes had a paragraph here and there, informing the readers of his progress since the attack. Draco had been incensed when he had once read in a foreign magazine that Harry was having a nervous breakdown due to the attack and would have to be institutionalized. Just the kind of press Harry didn't need. Draco had made sure he sent a vicious howler to the editor, one that was guaranteed to hurt a lot.

There was a sharp knock on the knock, 'yeah,' he called out and in came his mother. She had changed clothes and stepped in looking luminous in a satin red gown, her hair shiny, golden and sleek in a simple yet sophisticated chignon.

He smiled up at her catching the scent of her perfume, as she approached him. 'Hey,' she said.

'Hey,' he replied back.

She laid a hand on his shoulder and looked at him carefully with dark lashes that highlighted concerned light blue eyes, 'what's wrong?'

'Nothing, mum.'

'I don't believe that, Draco. You've been unusually quiet since you've been back from school. Is it something to do with your father? Did someone say anything? Are you worried about something? Tell me and I will sort it out.'

'No,' he said. 'Everything's all right. No one has said anything about dad.' He shrugged then and stared at his feet. 'I guess I miss him and it's just a little weird being here again without him. But I'm fine, don't look so worried.' He looked back up at her and she cast a doubtful look at him.

She pulled out another chair and sat down, 'well it is just that you don't look like you're having a lot of fun here and I wanted you to have good summer holiday.'

He leant near her and looked up at her face with an earnest expression, 'mum, it's ok really. I am fine. It's nice catching up with everyone and really I am enjoying myself.' She stared at him with an unmoving expression and he grinned quickly. 'Looking bored is a part of my persona.' His smile aimed at her pointedly and he saw her soften and give him a small smile.

'All right, but you'll tell me if something is bothering you, yes?'

He nodded and she got up and laid a kiss on his forehead. 'I need to make some last minute adjustments to my robes,' she said.

'You'll be the prettiest woman in the stadium,' he said sincerely and she laughed.

'You charmer you,' she affectionately stroked his cheek and he caught her hand.

'Is um whatshisname going with us…?'

'Isaac?'

'Yeah.'

She clasped his hand tightly, her eyes bright as they caught the light that shone directly into her pale irises. 'Yes he is, but we're just friends, Draco. I love your father very much, that hasn't changed in case that's what is bothering you…'

Draco ducked his head a little lower and she tipped his chin up with her finger firmly. 'But love just isn't enough to live on day by day, Draco. I need to have a life in order to live. I want to do things and go out and enjoy myself - I can't feel guilty for wanting to do all these things because your father is away…do you think that's fair? That I give up everything because of what has happened?'

'No,' he mumbled half-heartedly.

She bent down and looked into his eyes solemnly. 'Isaac and I are just friends and I am not interested in having a romantic relationship with anyone other than your father but he isn't here and I am…ok? I will not be punished for something he has done. It isn't fair and I don't want to let it affect me any more than it already has.'

She looked serious, her eyes turning a chilled blue as they often did when she was feeling emotional. Her eyes were usually the only indication of any emotion on her face, as more often than not her beautiful face looked neither happy nor sad. He felt a stab of guilt at hurting his mother's feelings and offered a feeble smile.

'Yeah I know,' he said and she instantly smiled and moved behind him, putting her arms around his shoulders tightly.

'No one will ever replace you, you always know that, yes?'

'Of course,' he replied smugly and she smiled, kissing his cheek soundly and patted his shoulder before she swept out of the room.

He knew that his mother was right. Love wasn't enough to live on day by day. He was realising that himself now. She needed to live and have a life, as should he be doing. He could, he knew he could, but he wasn't letting himself. His mother didn't have a choice but try and get on with things and yet love on even when she wasn't able to see her love.

In Draco's case, Harry was accessible. More than his father was to his mother. But he wasn't accessible to Draco in the way Draco wanted. Which was harder. Knowing Harry was reachable to an extent but not able to love or touch and have it reciprocated back. Even in thought. Harry's escape from his kiss had told him all that he needed to know of Harry's feelings towards him. Not particularly romantic he thought wryly. His mood sank lower and he tried to stop thinking about it.

His thoughts drifted to Isaac. He was a divorced man in his early fifties. Grey hair, smart looking, from an old pure blood Belgium family. It was also apparent to Draco that the man was in love with his mother. He doted on her and followed her around like a house elf, which made Draco's blood boil. The relationship maybe perfectly platonic on his mother's part but he knew that if she encouraged Isaac, Isaac would be all over her like a rash.

Draco recalled the first time he had seen the man when he had arrived in France. He had noticed that his mother was quite familiar with him already. Draco had deduced that she must have spent time with him over the past year in her visits here and they were fast friends it appeared. Draco had made hateful glances at him all throughout the first week. There were always luncheons and parties and the man kept being invited by his family. He was an old friend of Draco's uncle, which meant that he must have known his father quite well. He also made himself quite at home when he visited here, which Draco also loathed.

Draco was almost certain that his father would have killed Isaac by now if he had been here. Or at least managed to banish him somewhere for so much as looking at his mother with those doe eyes. Draco kept a shrewd eye on him but he appeared harmless enough. Though it was obvious his mother had wrapped the man around her little finger. Under different circumstances, IF the man were to date his mother, his credentials were quite impressive. Not that that mattered to Draco in any shape or form right now – Draco had gone out of his way to remind the man in a quiet corner one night that his father was just temporarily incapacitated, he wasn't dead so Isaac had better treat his mother with the respect she deserved as a married woman or else.

Isaac in return had replied with a small amused smile, 'young man, I must assure you that my intentions towards your mother are perfectly noble.' Draco had cocked an eyebrow dubiously and Isaac had then smiled sincerely. 'I would think that a gentlemen companion for your mother is better than her having to beat off her various other admirers.'

Draco had narrowed his eyes and Isaac's smile had dropped instantly. 'What other admirers?' Draco had asked and Isaac cleared his throat, blushing a little.

'Well um I just meant…'

Draco eyed him coldly with his grey eyes hardening, 'I know what you meant. But my mother is _still_ married. It wouldn't hurt for _you_ to remember that and if I see any other man near her - I'll tell him the same.' A moment's silence followed as Isaac considered Draco's words. Draco then gave a curt nod and stepped away with an abrupt, 'excuse me.'

Draco wasn't afraid to use his wand if and when he wanted to. He could make a nasty mishap look like an accident - and he wouldn't think twice to make something like that happen if anyone came near his mother in that way. He had to look out for her now that his father wasn't around. He ruminated grimly for a few more moments when he heard a small voice.

'Monsieur Malfoy?'

Avie had twinkled behind him. He broke out of his thoughts and turned around. The little elf was holding a binder full of colour samples with an eager smile.

He slid to the floor near her and she placed the binder in his hands. He opened it and flicked through. He knew what he was looking for.

'That one, Avie.' He pulled out his wand and marked the sample with a small DM on the side. 'Think you can get all this done by six o' clock?'

'Yes, Monsieur, of course, Monsieur. Avie will make sure of it.'

'Okay good….' He got up and straightened his robe, 'I'll see you in a bit.'

Avie nodded and snapped her fingers, leaving a small puff of glitter in her wake.

He opened his door and walked out into the corridor and met his cousin Sabine in the hallway who was already dressed.

'My, you're eager,' Draco said looking her over.

She gave him a 'look', 'I am meeting some friends beforehand.'

He nodded. She looked very pretty, wearing a short-sleeved robe that cut high across her thighs in fuchsia pink. Her blonde hair was loose and she looked rather cute.

He cocked his brow, 'you look great.'

'Thank you, Dray-co,' she grinned at him widely. 'I try.' He shook his head with a small smile and she nudged him with her elbow with a mischievous glint in her eyes. 'There vill be a lot of girls tonight afterwards for drinks. No doubt you vill break some hearts tonight?' her accent rolled off her tongue and his lips quirked.

'Doubt it; I'll leave all the heart breaking to you.'

'There vill be a lot of lovely looking girls you vill see.'

He chuckled dismissing her comments and kissed her on the cheek, 'see you later.'

She rolled her eyes at him and then ran quickly down the staircase as he went further down the corridor and out onto the balcony. He pushed the doors open revealing the glittering sea in its full glory. It really was beautiful and it was so easy to forget all your troubles, if only you would let yourself. Going on holiday always felt like you were in a different world and yet when you went back home, it was as if you had never gone away. He looked on now at the lush scenery. The tiers of trees were thick fold with huge villas interspersed in between. The Muggle marinas could be seen from here also mingled with the Wizarding boats. The Mediterranean ocean always looked so deep blue and green, the skies always clear, the clouds white and pure.

And, in spite of all this beauty, Draco was finding it so hard to breathe freely. The gloomy shroud he had worn for so many months was so hard to shed. It was deeply imbedded inside of him and all he did was hide his misery. He just wanted to be able to feel genuinely happy for five minutes. But he couldn't, his heart was so tangled up in Harry that it was like a constant ache. Fuck, he felt depressed. He leant over the railing taking in a deep breath. He looked down into the courtyard and could see his aunt and uncle having a snack of fruits before getting dressed for tonight it would seem.

He turned back into his room and looked at the heap of clothes he had left from last night on the floor. Thierry had thrown a pre-birthday party last night. He recalled the surreal feeling of arriving at the party. And two hours later it still had felt strange. The food had been served, the cake had been cut and everyone was seated watching a French witch songstress sing with great gusto amidst the crystal chandeliers and mirrors and a clapping audience.

Half an hour later people began to dance and Draco sipped his fourth glass of wine. Magical glitter flakes fell from the ceiling - floating to the ground like tiny stars underneath the sky of ghosts who were also dancing with their ethereal partners high up above everyone's head. Draco blankly watched the never-ending supply of snacks and drinks that were being constantly refilled. He could just imagine the scene downstairs in the kitchen with the elf's running around, cooking and cleaning and topping up. He was a little drunk and had sat himself down and watched through lidded eyes at the dancing figures.

'Drayy-co,' came a breathy voice in his ear a few minutes later. He had felt hands slip down his chest and caught one before it started to trail any further.

'You must come and dance.' And a brush of silky brown hair against his cheek accompanied with a scented touch.

His lips thinned in annoyance as he forced a polite tone. 'Inez, really, I'm not in the mood for dancing.'

Dark brown eyes heavily lined with kohl smoked at him, 'eet is a party is it not? You have come to enjoy yourself. Eet is your cousin's birthday. You must have fun.'

He smacked his lips loudly. 'I'm having all the fun I want thanks.'

She had wrinkled her nose and shook her head. 'You Eeenglish boys,' came a soft disparaging laugh and then she straightened up, walking away with a pronounced sway to her hips.

For a split second he had thought about taking her up on her offer. He missed making out and having someone's arms around him. He was rather intoxicated and it would be easy for him to lose himself for one night and let himself go. Harry had rejected him after all. He didn't want Draco to make him feel anything. He didn't seem to want Draco at all. So what was Draco exactly waiting around for? For Harry to miraculously fall into his arms and lavish him with kisses and sweet words? Because that wasn't going to happen any time soon and Draco was getting a little tired of feeling like shredded crap all the time.

It would be so easy to hook up with someone tonight. He could if he wanted to. Maybe he should. He could just fuck someone and give his body some release. It would be purely physical - it didn't have to be emotional. It wouldn't be emotional. It would be like dislocating his heart from his body. And it would feel good and then it would be over. In fact he could get up right now and follow Inez on the dance floor and grab her by her shining curtain of hair and pull her towards him and kiss her brutally till he was rid of all of his frustrations. He could sink his teeth into her tongue and wind her hair around his fingers till she whimpered and grab her by the arms and show her exactly what she was asking for…

And then he sighed. He didn't want to. He only wanted Harry. Bloody Harry. Literally – instantly he felt a pang hit his chest at his crass joke. His bloody Harry. His darling covered in blood. He was going to be haunted with those visions for a long time - he knew that. He loved Harry deeply and in his heart he was with Harry even if Harry didn't know that himself yet. Making out with anyone else or touching them would feel like he was cheating on Harry and he wasn't prepared to do that. He felt slightly repulsed at even pondering such thoughts and his tongue soured. His heart ached again at the thought of Harry's soft kisses and touching smiles. And so here he was. Back to square one. Stuck - nowhere in a nightmarish limbo.

He chewed on his bottom lip, heavy headed and weary. He had felt heart broken and choked and drunk. Getting up carefully he had made his way to the front doors and slipped out into the gardens. He sat on a bench that was opposite a huge intricately carved statue of an owl. The stone etched in curves and grooves for the eyes and ears and beak, the wings cool and long and grey.

He had sat outside for a few minutes and then wandered back in listlessly. There were mirrors that closed in from all four sides of the wall. Candles flickered around the tables and the drinks in silver trays streamed out billows of smoky rings of all colours from the smoking sticks in the glasses. The music was loud, the chairs deep and soft.

His cousin Sabine spotted him and grabbed his hand pulling him onto the dance floor. He tried to dance and look like he was having a wonderful time. He figured he should make an effort. He was here with his family and Thierry was being kind enough to help him out with his lessons. It was the least he could do. Pretend that he was having a whale of a time.

From the corner of his eye he had seen Gabrielle Delacour. She was gyrating with some sixteen-year-old wizard who had a lisp. She was a bit young wasn't she? And Draco felt strangely sick at seeing such a young girl being so sexually overt. At seventeen he was already considering fourteen and fifteen year olds as children. He couldn't believe he had had sex at fifteen. His mother would be horrified. But at any given age, you think you know everything. You don't know anything else other than the years that have gone before you. He felt old now yet he knew that he would look back at being seventeen and think he was so young.

An hour later he had collapsed on a burgundy love seat sucking on a cherry flavoured smoking stick. He really wanted to be hugged but he knew he wouldn't be taking up any offers. He watched couples make out and whisper sweet nothings into one another's ears and closed his eyes and imagined Harry being here at his side with his head resting on Draco's shoulder. That was quite a comforting thought even if it was completely fictitious. He reached for a glass of champagne and stirred his stick into it, releasing the cherry flavour and turning the liquid red…..

Draco broke out of his thoughts sharply now and went to dry his hair. He ran a brush through it as he waited for Avie to arrive with his clothes. She did about ten minutes later and he smiled. The shirt was the exact same colour as Harry's eyes used to be. He fingered it softly. The silk was so soft and light.

'Thank you, Avie.'

She twittered and lowered her lashes, 'no, no, Monsieur. I am here to serve you.'

He nodded and she bowed once and vanished. Maybe he could ask his aunt if he could take Avie back with them to England. She was so obedient and willing. It was good – he was sure his mother would agree with him. He'd mention it later on to her. He slipped into his clothes and folded his wand into his small wand carry case, pocketing it into his trousers. He was ready.

The shirt hugged him comfortably and he left the top few buttons open, exposing his fair skin. His white blond hair shielded his eyes and he pushed his feet into black shoes that finished off the outfit. However, he honestly didn't recognise himself anymore as he looked in the mirror. A serious yet handsome boy looked back at him. Contemplative eyes, high cheekbones and pale pink lips with an air of despondency. He could stare right through himself in the mirror, he was so hollow. He really needed to get his life back. His joy had vanished.

He heard his mother's voice call him and went to join her in the carriage that would take them up to the hill and to the stadium. Some of his family had Apparated of course. He couldn't wait till he could Apparate, though Hogwarts took that fun right out of it. It would have been great if he could just Apparate to Harry's side whenever he felt like it. As if.

Once seated inside the velvet covered interior, his mother patted his knee. 'You look great,' she told him.

'Thanks, mum,' he said turning to face her. 'So do you.' And she did.

Her full lips with the perpetual downward pout sparkled with the colour of crushed strawberries, and her pale skin glowed against her blood red robes. She cast her light blue eyes over Draco with a knowing look and then turned to Isaac mesmerising him with her sooty lashes and cool gaze. Draco watched Isaac dissolve in a reverent puddle as he sat next to his mother and eventually caught Draco's meaningful glance and returned a hesitant smile back. Draco glowered at him and then turned his face away. He flicked his hair back off his face, a sullen expression passing over his delicate features as he frowned, his grey eyes misty in thought.

* * *

Thierry and some of his friends were already at the venue when they got there. The family had obtained a private room for drinks beforehand and Thierry was greeting his guests by the door. He was twenty-one today and looked very happy at the turnout. Each new guest was bringing in a parade of gifts behind them, which instantly floated in quiet procession to a huge table in the room as the guests filtered through.

Draco watched the scene with an unattached mind. He really wasn't looking forward to tonight's events. The family had paid for a private box in which they could watch the final in the Duelling tournament. Draco had only gone once before with his parents when he had been very young and since then it had been banned in England so he had not seen any further shows. The sport was still played throughout Europe and Asia, though there was talk that it would soon get banned in Europe also. It was seen as a very violent and ruthless sport though it had a large following throughout the world, as it was one of the oldest sports played in the Wizarding age. It was still played in England in the underground sector and Draco was sure that the ministry were aware of its existence but perhaps it was rather difficult to banish it all at once whilst many wizards still enjoyed viewing it.

He made his way upstairs with the rest of the family towards the private box and took his seat next to Thierry in the front row. He could feel the magical shields prickling in the air which disabled any attempts of Apparating and Disapparating in the stadium. He glanced around the large expanse and could already tell that it was going to be a full house. People were crawling around like ants trying to find their seats. He could see the duelling arena very clearly from he was. It was in the centre of the court with all the spectators surrounding it.

A house elf appeared in the box with an assortment of appetizers and drinks and offered Draco a glass. He took it with stiff fingers, his skin tingling with cold as it came into contact with the chilly beverage. There were a multitude of voices echoing around the walls and he sipped his drink, watching the movement around him in a daze. It was really weird being in a place with thousands of strangers.

His cousin suddenly snorted over his glass of champagne and guffawed loudly at something his friend had just told him. Thierry chuckled and caught Draco's eye and Draco smiled back tightly – not knowing what his cousin had found so funny. His mother entered the box along with Isaac and ruffled Draco's hair before she took her seat behind him.

A pile of brochures appeared on a small table on the side and Draco reached for one and flicked through it. There was a brief history of the stadium and the sport of duelling. All the competitors who had duelled in this tournament thus far and then finally a few pages on each of the finalists that were duelling tonight.

Draco noted that neither duellist was married and both their fathers had also been duellers. He supposed it would be rather difficult to maintain a marriage in such conditions. Knowing that each duel could be the last time you drew breath in your lungs. Playing with one's life every time you stepped into the arena. The fifty percent chance of whether you were going to live or die. What partner could live with those odds? Draco read on ruefully as he sipped his drink. His mind suddenly sprung to Harry and he sighed deeply as he envisioned vivid green eyes. He shook his head clear of such thoughts and tried to focus on reading what was in front of him.

Five minutes later he had read the booklet and passed it back to his mother. The thing about duellists is that they had volunteered to risk their lives in such a fashion. Either they didn't care much for their lives and didn't mind that they could die each time they competed or that they loved life enough to live in every moment they had - as each day could be their last. Either they were very brave or just plain foolish, Draco couldn't make up his mind on which just yet.

Of course, not every match ended in a death. Many duellists had been severely maimed or so damaged that they could no longer stand on their feet - hence making the standing opponent the winner automatically. The only rules of the sport were that they were not allowed to cast any Unforgivables. What fun would it be for the audience if a dueller cast Avada Kedavra on his competitor in the first five minutes of the game? The audience would not have had their moneys worth at all. Besides there were plenty of spells that could be inflicted which were nearly as lethal as the Cruciatus.

The lights started to dim and a magical screen was cast around the playing field. It looked like a glistening blue dome in the shape of a giant spider web spun over the rectangular playing arena. It was comprised of several incantations that disabled any attempt of magic penetrating the playing field. The only magic within that space could be done by the actual duellists.

Draco's eyes switched to a bright light as the scoring board lit up, displaying the names of the two duellists on top of two large zeros. For every curse that was thrown effectively, the player received twenty points. For every curse deflected successfully the player received twenty points. Today the winner not only won the match but was to be named the Duellist champion of the world.

The excitement started to build up around the stadium as the music boomed across the space. An elaborately choreographed dance followed done by some of the Wizarding world's most talented entertainers. Fifteen minutes later the play was ready to start.

Soft billows of smoke wafted over the ground of the paying field and there was a roar of shouts and clapping as the two duellists came onto the grounds. The two players were called Ramon Ordonez and Giacoma Quintanilla – both heavy browed, olive skinned and dark haired with not an ounce of fat on them. Judging from the pictures in the brochures, Ramon was the older opponent at sixty-five and the reigning champion. Giacoma was in his early thirties and the newly named European champion.

Thierry leaned far into seat over the balcony, his face flushed with alcohol and excitement. He grinned again at Draco and Draco half-heartedly returned it. He looked back at his mother who was watching the field intently along with the rest of the family and suddenly Draco felt so alone and separate from his relatives. It was mystifying why so many people would watch such a blood thirsty sport but he supposed it was the adrenalin rush of being in such close quarters to death yet not getting harmed yourself in any way.

He hadn't wanted to come but hadn't spoken up either. And now he was here - probably going to witness a death that would be cheered and he felt sick. The thought of blood being spilled and soaking into the dusty floor made his stomach turn. Did his mother actually like watching this game he wondered or was she like him and just hiding behind a façade?

Of course this was a favourite Death Eaters' sport. All of his father's friends followed it avidly and suddenly Draco looked at Thierry and imagined him in the black robes and mask that all the Death Eaters wore. He shuddered at the thought that could quite possibly come true. Young people of about Theirry's age were the most influential and perfect candidates to join Voldemort's league. He shifted uncomfortably and took in a deep breath as the two duellists bowed to one another and drew out their wands. He miserably sank deeper into his chair. He wanted the holidays to be over so he could get back to school. He couldn't wait till the first day of term and catch his first glimpse of Harry again.

September couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

continued…


	13. To Be Seventeen

**Disclaimer: Miss Rowling wrote HP- I didn't – so legally she has all the rights to her wonderful creation!**

**Coffeecat**** sat on this chapter like a mother hen whilst I ran around Chapter Twelve Lol. We barely retouched this chapter as it mostly wrote itself. **

* * *

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**Chapter Thirteen**

**To Be Seventeen**

It was seven thirty in the morning on the thirty-first of July. It was Harry's seventeenth birthday. Only he hadn't noticed and didn't care and was sleeping soundly. He was awoken by Hedwig clucking near his ear. He mumbled sleepily as she pecked at his cheek gently.

'Hedwig,' he grumbled and finally opened his eyes. She touched her beak to his cheek again and he smiled and kissed her back on her soft head. 'What's wrong, huh?' he asked as he moved a little, drawing his hand up and stroking her back. 'Are you hungry?'

She hooted and tilted her head towards his desk. He could see blurry, misshapen figures on his desk and he reached for his glasses. Putting them on, he looked again. Sitting there were five owls with an array of small parcels and letters around them. He sat up in his bed and Hedwig tugged at his shorts with her sharp beak.

'Ok, I'm getting up,' he laughed and padded over to his desk. First he reached for Pig, who skittered at him as Harry untied the letter he was fastened to. It was from Ron. Next were three owls, which had parcels from Hagrid and Lupin and Hermione. Last of all was a tall eagle owl, who was sitting rather proudly and haughtily on the edge of Harry's desk. Draco's owl. As soon as Harry untied the parcel and letter, he flew off to Hedwig and they both shared a bowl of water as Pig chirped loudly on the table.

Harry bit his lip and breathed in deeply before opening the letters. He took them over to his bed and began to read them. Five minutes later he folded them and tucked them carefully back into their envelopes and put them away in his bedside table drawer. Pig looked at him with wide eyes and bounced over to him, feathers flapping noisily for such a tiny owl. He sat on Harry's lap, his talons digging into Harry's bare thighs.

'Ow, Pig, you do hurt you know,' he said as he stroked the small bird under its beak.' Do you know which of these parcels contains food?'

Pig flew away from him and then landed near to a badly wrapped brown parcel. Hagrid's. Harry got up and undid the string, the paper opening on its own accord and presenting what it held inside. It was a cake. A birthday cake.

Harry stared at it hard for a while, reliving the memory of the first time he had seen Hagrid and receiving a cake for his birthday from the friendly stranger. Hedwig now flew onto Harry's shoulder and he broke off a piece of cake and fed her some. The other owls looked at the cake in interest and Harry fed each of them a small slice. He finally tasted some for himself. It wasn't bad at all. Usually it was better to be a little wary of Hagrid's cooking endeavours but the cake tasted very good.

He decided that he wouldn't open the rest of his presents just yet and was about to walk away when Pig now latched himself onto Harry's shorts.

'What is it, Pig?'

Hedwig gave Harry a knowing look and Harry understood instantly. Ron had probably told Pig that he wasn't to come back without a reply from Harry. Harry hadn't written to anyone so far over the holidays. He should.

He ran a hand through his bed-ruffled hair and sat down on the chair reaching for a something to write with. He would write in pen, maybe even enclose it in Ron's envelope for Arthur's Muggle collection.

He took out a sheet of paper and waited for a moment whilst he thought of what to write. A minute later he wrote out a few sentences and virtually wrote the same thing in four other letters. He sealed them all and tied each one to the appropriate owl. After waiting till each bird had taken flight, he pulled on a t-shirt and went downstairs.

The house was very quiet, very still and the air was humid and claustrophobic. Since Dudley and Uncle Vernon had left, Aunt Petunia had laid in every morning. Harry usually got up, made breakfast and ate it at the table in the kitchen. He would wash his dishes and then go and sit in the sitting room till his aunt came down.

She had been strangely pleasant to him – more so than she had been whilst Uncle Vernon had been around. She even asked him to stay and watch TV if he liked whilst she was in the room. At times he would and other times he would thank her but go upstairs to his bedroom or in the garden. He couldn't get used to her treating him like an actual person that she didn't despise unequivocally.

This morning he helped himself to some cereal and a glass of orange juice. He ate it in the space of five minutes and then got up to go to the sink. He could now hear the faint patter of slippers coming down the stairs. She was up early. He could feel her come into the kitchen.

'Umm, morning,' she said.

He shook out his plate and put it on the dish holder, 'err morning,' he replied back. He turned around and wiped his hands on a small hand towel from the counter.

'You can put the dishes in the dishwasher you know,' she said, tightening the belt of her gown around her middle.

'Oh I don't mind,' Harry answered as she went to the cupboard and took out a tea cup and saucer. He opened the bread holder and took out a loaf of bread. She usually had toast in the mornings.

She nodded at him and began to make herself some breakfast. As he was about to leave she said, 'I need to go to the shops. Do you umm…'

He looked at her blankly for a moment. Her motions had stilled and her body tensed as she carried on with her sentence. 'I might do a big shop and there will be some bags to carry so…'

'Oh right,' Harry said. 'Um, yes ok, I'll go and get dressed. Whenever you're ready to go.' He let out a deep breath and her head bobbed again and she carried on with her breakfast as he left the room.

He wasn't sure why she was doing a ''big shop''. She hadn't asked him to come to the shops for the last two summers. And over the last week and a half, she had popped to the shops by herself, getting the bare necessities. Still he didn't mind, he hadn't been out of the house at all since he had been back.

He had a wash and tried to put on the most presentable clothes he had. The jeans were loose and hung low at his waist even with a belt. He put on a red t shirt that didn't seem to have any holes in it and fitted all right. His hair had grown long; he needed a haircut in all honesty. He looked pale as if he hadn't seen the sun in months but other than that he looked passable he supposed. Well, as passable as _he_ could get anyway. He traipsed downstairs and waited for his aunt in the living room.

An hour later they were in the large supermarket, shopping. He pushed the trolley and she picked up various items. The silence between them was odd. They didn't have anything to really talk about and it would be too weird if he pretended that they actually had any kind of relationship. So he kept silent and followed her around the aisles.

She looked at him stiffly as they passed the confectionary and snacks aisle. 'Do you …want anything?'

His brows rose immediately, 'oh umm no I'm all right.' He didn't know what else to say really and settled for, 'thanks though.'

She nodded and went and got some Rich Tea biscuits and put them in the trolley. He hadn't had any sweets for ages. He thought of all of the Honey dukes sweets he had bought a few months ago. He couldn't remember if he had eaten them all…He remembered eating chocolate…He sighed and pushed away the memories quickly.

They paid and drove back home in silence. He felt strange just breathing because even that made a sound and his aunt was looking so rigid as she drove, her mouth tight and her eyes staring ahead, that he was afraid that any noise would distract her or something. They parked in the garage and she went ahead and opened the door as he got the bags out of the boot and carried them into the house. They unpacked the food together- again in silence.

He folded the carrier bags and tucked them away in the bags hamper under the sink. Aunt Petunia was watching him and he tugged his t-shirt down, feeling self-conscious.

'Would you like a sandwich for lunch?' she asked as he stood upright, closing the cupboard.

'Err, yes, thank you…' he swallowed as she nodded at him again, and went over to the fridge. He stood by the counter watching her. It was so quiet in the kitchen. And he felt messy just standing there. 'Can I help?' he said, after a moment.

She was cutting up some salad and shook her head, 'you can get the juice out if you want to.'

He nodded, grateful for something to do.

Five minutes later, they were sitting opposite one another, eating their sandwiches. In silence. He tried to chew a little more carefully than usual as every sound seemed amplified. He couldn't describe what was going on, but he felt very strange and a little uncomfortable.

After they finished, she loaded the dishwasher and left the kitchen to go into the living room. He sat in the kitchen for a while and then went up to his bedroom. He must have fallen asleep for a while because the next thing he knew was that his aunt was standing by his bed, looking down at him. He peered at her blearily, her thin frame coming into view, her sharp elbows, her long neck.

He rubbed his eyes, 'sorry what time is it?'

'It's seven o' clock,' she answered. 'I thought you might want some dinner,' she pointed to a tray on his bedside table.

'Oh,' he said and sat up in bed, 'you didn't have to um do that... I err....'

She looked at him with an odd expression and his words fell silent; he then mumbled a, 'thank you.'

She nodded, and left his room. He stretched out and looked at the plate. There was fish and some potatoes and vegetables, with apple pie and cream for desert. He eyed the food and remembered something from last night. He had awoken from a particularly bad nightmare and he wasn't sure if he had cried out but when he had opened his eyes, his aunt had been looking down at him just like she had a few moments earlier. He thought he had been dreaming and closed his eyes again. But now he wondered; had she come to him last night? He shook his head and Hedwig crooned at him, watching him with her large amber eyes. He drank some water and then ate his dinner.

There was a faint sound of thunder rolling in the distance – it had been quite hot for the last few days and a thunderstorm usually followed such humidity. He threw off his t-shirt and jeans and collapsed onto his bed again. It was starting to rain now. His window was open and you could hear the rustle of raindrops falling down. It was rather comforting - listening to rain. He could smell it seep into the room. He was seventeen years old. That was quite old really, considering…for him.

* * *

Two days later there was knock on his door early in the morning. He had already woken up but was still lying in bed. He sat up and called out; 'come in.' Obviously, it had to be his aunt. He put on his glasses. Obviously it was.

She stood by his door and looked at him awkwardly. She looked as if she were about to say something but was debating whether to say it or not. She was already dressed he noticed, in a flowery blue skirt, white blouse, her hair pinned back. She looked as if she was going out.

'Yes, Aunt Petunia?' he asked, wondering if he could make this a little easier for her, though at the same time wondering why he was.

'I thought,' she began, clearing her throat already. 'I thought,' she repeated, 'that maybe we could go to the shops.'

He sat up a little higher. They had already gone shopping, but hey, who was he to argue?

'Um okay,' he said in a slightly confused voice.

'Not food shopping,' she said and his brow wrinkled. Her pale eyes gazed at him and her expression was rather blank. He just stared back at her, blinking. She blinked back. 'You need a haircut I noticed.'

His hand immediately went to the top of his head, 'oh right,' he said flushing. 'Yeah I guess, it looks umm…' a mess, he looked bad, he knew that.

'So,' her hands were twisting around one another, as if she were soaping them. 'So,' she said. 'I thought we could go, when you have breakfasted.'

He nodded and moved aside his flat sheet, 'yes, ok, thanks.'

She gave a sharp nod and left his room and he got out of bed, feeling peculiar again.

The ride into town wasn't long and they drove in silence once again. She parked in the large multi-car park and they took the stairs down to street level. She walked ahead of him at first and then stopped as he caught up. He looked at her and she smiled slightly. She looked like she might be sick, her smile was wavering so much. He felt himself tense up as they approached the hairdressers and went inside.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets as his aunt came forward and gave her name to the girl at the desk.

'Ah yes, Harry, hello,' the girl who was probably no more than twenty years old, smiled at him broadly. 'Here why don't you come with me and Greg will wash your hair.'

He took his hands out of his pockets, 'yes, ok.' His aunt tilted her head slightly and went and took a seat by the magazines as he was led to the basin. He took off his glasses and stuffed them into his pocket as he leaned back his head. ''Greg'' washed his hair gently and it was rather soothing actually. The shampoo smelt all nice.

'There we go, young man,' Greg said afterwards and patted his hair with a towel and then draped it over his shoulders.

'Uh thanks,' Harry said feeling rather silly, as he got up and went towards a seat that the girl was pointing at. It was right next to his aunt. He sat down and his aunt smiled with a look that could only be described at best as constipated. He smiled back unsurely.

A woman who was probably in her mid thirties came up to him.

'Hi,' she said. 'I'm Annette and I'll be doing your hair today.'

He nodded and looked at his face with wet sticky up hair. He couldn't see all that clearly so he supposed he would just have to trust ''Annette''.

'So, what would you like done?' The hairdresser asked him, combing through his hair.

'Um well I guess make it neater…' he muttered.

Annette mmm'ed knowingly as she eyed his head. 'Why don't you let me give you a real nice haircut? We'll take it a little shorter from the sides, leave a little length just here and crop it slightly here. And you can have this nice effect in the front, which you can gel up when you go out. I think it would look great. You have great cheekbones…'

Harry had no idea what she was saying but shrugged. If the haircut was a complete disaster, it wouldn't be so bad. His hair grew relatively quickly. Well, it used to...

Annette looked at his aunt, 'what do you think? Off his forehead?'

'Yes,' his aunt nodded. 'That's fine.'

'Mmm,' Annette agreed, 'it would show his features a little more. Those great eyes you've got - what an unusual colour… Really eye catching,' she grinned at him and he just sat there feeling daft again.

Annette fussed around him, combing and cutting and he sat there quietly. His aunt was flicking through a magazine. '_Celebrity weddings uncovered'_ the tag line screamed on the cover.

Fifteen minutes later his hair was cut. 'Do you want a blow dry, honey?' He gaped at Annette stupidly and his aunt quickly said, 'yes please.' Annette nodded and started at him with a large black dryer.

He wasn't sure how long he was being preened for but finally Annette stood back.

'You have a really beautiful son, Mrs Dursley,' she said. His aunt grinned suddenly and Harry cut in worriedly and said, 'she's my aunt.' His aunt's grin faded a little and Annette smiled. 'Sorry, you have a beautiful nephew then.'

His aunt nodded, 'thank you.'

Harry caught her gaze before he looked away. She was looking at him intently and he swallowed feeling strangely nervous. He took out his glasses and put them back on. The haircut was shorter than he had ever had it before. His fringe was gone leaving his scar to be seen clearly. His face looked more angular. He looked older and neater definitely. He thought he still looked strange. Annette patted him on the shoulder and took away his covering wrap and then brushed him off.

His aunt smiled at the woman and then went to the counter to pay. When they went outside, the sun had brightened quite a lot.

'Let's go to the opticians,' Aunt Petunia said nodding towards it.

'Umm, no that's okay,' Harry said quickly. 'My eyes are all right. I don't umm need new glasses.'

'I thought you could get some new frames.'

He looked at her dumbly, what was she doing? Why?

'Come on,' she said, her mouth set and he followed her feeling a little lost. They went into the opticians where they had an assistant who helped him choose some new up to date frames. Simple, metal frames that did look quite nice. They suited his new haircut but he was beginning to not look like himself. The sales clerk then said that the frames could be ready in an hour if he left his glasses with them. He couldn't see at all well without his glasses.

However his aunt said, 'that's fine. We'll go and have lunch and come back then.'

Harry didn't say anything and warily followed her out. 'Let's go to that restaurant over there,' she pointed.

'All right,' he said.

Ten minutes later he was sipping a nice cold coke whilst his aunt had some lemonade. He wondered what he could talk about. He thought it might be polite to ask if she had heard from Uncle Vernon but that would be too much like an attempt at conversation and they didn't do that. He didn't ''talk'' to his aunt. Still, he felt compelled to say something after everything she was doing for him. Was he dying? Like very soon? As in this month? Was there something they hadn't actually told him back at school?

He fiddled with his glass, running his fingers around the cold exterior. His aunt was watching him and he let out a deep breath and sat back on his chair. Her face was blurry.

'So, umm,' he said, 'have you come here before?'

She looked at him and then nodded. She had a hard face. A dissatisfied face even though she apparently had everything she had ever wanted. Harry wondered if he was the sole reason for her looking the way she did. Or perhaps she naturally had a stern face and she looked sullen and pinched unless her lips turned up in genuine warmth. She smiled at Dudley. Her face lit up sometimes when she smiled at Dudley. Harry knew that she loved her son and husband very much. He was quite sure of that.

They sat in silence and Harry idly watched the other people laughing and talking. He hadn't really eaten out much - as in eating out in restaurants… this was new…

Their food came and Harry was grateful for something to occupy himself with. His mixed seafood salad was delicious and he inhaled it rather quickly - though making sure he ate with some modicum of manners. His aunt picked at her salad and she was still gazing at him vaguely. He couldn't really tell what she was thinking behind such flat, pale eyes.

'Would you like some dessert?' she asked as he wiped his lips with a napkin. He shook his head quickly. She had already done enough for him - he couldn't ask for dessert. She nodded and then raised her hand for the waiter. Harry watched uncomfortably as she laid out some cash in the small silver tray with the bill.

'Your glasses are probably ready by now,' she stated and he agreed and they got up and left the restaurant.

His glasses were ready and they fitted his new frames on him, adjusting them slightly. He liked them, they looked…nice. His aunt nodded in approval and the cashier smiled at him. This was a very strange day to be having, he decided.

'I think that perhaps we can go into the clothes shop… your clothes are rather ill-fitting and well you need clothes that actually fit you. You've grown a lot.'

Harry's mouth opened, 'umm, Aunt Petunia, really, I don't, I don't uhh need, I mean…'

'I think you do,' she said and marched on ahead forcing him to follow her again. They went into a store where there was a large men's wear department.

'Pick some things you like,' she told him as he looked at the rails and stacks of clothing. There was a rather nice t-shirt on a male dummy in the central aisle, some nice jeans… but he didn't really know. Was this some kind of trick? Why was she being so nice?

'I umm really…' he muttered unsurely.

She gazed at him, her face not betraying anything other than a strange detached look. She looked devoid of any expression yet she was saying that he ought to get this or that… like she wanted him to get these items. She rounded a sales clerk to help them and Harry found himself in the changing rooms with four pairs of trousers, a few shirts, sweatshirts and t-shirts. He tried them on, feeling hot and weird. They all fit him except one pair of jeans.

He lumbered outside of the curtain with an armload. He gave the sales assistant the trousers that didn't fit and took the rest outside to meet his aunt.

'Well?' she asked when she saw him coming up.

'Ummm, well yeah these all fit,' he said awkwardly.

She took some of the shirts away from him and nodded.

'I saw some trainers. I thought you could use a pair.'

His mouth dropped open for the umpteenth time that day, 'umm,' he said flustered. 'I don't really…' well he _did _really. He _did_ need a pair of new trainers. His were wearing thin and his feet had grown since - Dudley's old hand me downs weren't always a good fit.

'Go and pick a pair you like,' she instructed him, catching him in the eye. He gulped and then wandered over to the shelves. There were some nice plain white ones. He looked for the cheapest brand and picked up a reasonable pair.

He gave them into the clerk and his aunt joined him and handed the clerk over a pair of black shoes.

'These also in the same size,' she said.

Harry rubbed his nose feeling tongue-tied as she looked at him. 'I thought they could go with both your jeans and trousers. Casual or dressy.' She swallowed and peered at her watch, she didn't look happy or unhappy. She was just so matter of fact and almost blasé about this whole expedition.

Ten minutes later, he walked out with two clumpy bags of shoes and various other shopping bags. His aunt walked a little ahead towards the car park.

'Um,' Harry said trailing after her, 'didn't you want to get anything?' She hadn't bought anything for herself or Dudley or Uncle Vernon. This whole trip had been just for Harry.

'No,' she said as she spotted her car and pressed the alarm off.

He put all the bags into the boot and then joined her in the car.

They drove back in silence and once they reached the house, she pulled into the garage and turned off the engine. All the while Harry had been thinking about what he was going to say.

She took the keys out of the ignition but didn't attempt to open the car door.

'I could umm go to the bank,' he said in a quiet voice. 'And uhh get some money out…' He didn't know what else to say. He didn't think his aunt knew about the money his parents had left him but she had spent so much money on him today and he had to repay her for that. He probably should repay her for feeding him all these years too…maybe he should…

'No,' his aunt interrupted his rambling mind. 'I don't need you to do that.' She was looking at the windscreen, her hands in her lap. She was so still it was uncanny.

'But…' he began, 'you got me all this stuff and …'

She turned towards him now, her eyes drifting over his face slowly. His hair, his glasses, his nose, his lips. Dropping further down his body, carefully inspecting every inch of him it would seem. His heart was beating uncomfortably and he watched her watching him. She centred her eyes on his face again and they blinked at each other. It was hot in the car and eerily silent.

She opened her mouth before her words decided to come out. The lips clamped shut again before she said, 'happy birthday ….Harry.'

His heart jolted and his breath escaped all too quickly from his lungs. He was speechless. She turned her face away from him and then opened the car door.

'Bring in your things from the boot,' she said before slamming the door shut. He sat unmoving till she had gone across the path towards the front door. He couldn't believe it… and he couldn't remember a time when she had called him Harry. It had always been ''you'', ''boy'', or ''the boy''.

He took his bags out of the boot and went inside the house. She handed him the car keys and he locked the car and shut the garage door before coming back into the house.

'Do you want a drink?' she called out from the kitchen.

'Ummm,' he said, 'uh no thanks. He went into the kitchen, putting the bags on the table and stood quietly as she poured herself some cold water from the fridge. He ought to thank her for today. He didn't think he had ever thanked her for anything before but then she hadn't really done all that much to be thanked for before. Unless he thanked her for taking him in, which didn't pay any relevance to today's events.

He took in a deep breath as he stood by the counter.

'Thank you for today, for everything. I really appreciate it.'

She simply nodded and her eyes dropped to his feet and then swept up again, lingering on his face. 'Why don't you take your things upstairs and put them away.'

'Ok,' he replied and picked up the bags again and climbed up to his room. He spilled all the things out on his bed, looking at all the new clothes with the price tags still on them. It would be quite nice to wear new clothes. The only new things he had had all these years was his Hogwarts uniform. He suddenly had a thought. What if his magic didn't return? Would he still be allowed to go back to school for his final year? What would be the point - if he couldn't do magic. He would be a squib…maybe Dumbledore would employ him or something because he would be worthless as a student otherwise. He had failed all the exams he had taken in the summer term.

He put away his new things carefully and then hesitated for a moment before he went into the living room where his aunt was sitting.

She looked up as he came in. The TV was on. He sat on the sofa opposite her, feeling a bit self-conscious. Maybe she didn't want him around…maybe he should go back upstairs…

'What do you think you might like for dinner?'

'Uhh,' he mumbled. 'Umm anything…' He could tell her that her cooking was quite good. It had always been good, but he hadn't been able to enjoy it before - having had such measly portions and all.

'Anything you cook is nice,' he said in one quick breath.

Her eyes shot to his face when he said that and he felt a little self-conscious.

'We could make pizzas,' she returned shortly. 'I have two bases…you could help.'

He nodded eagerly. He would like to help. They sat in silence as she watched her programme and he watched it mindlessly, not taking in any of the story line.

'Mrs Figg asked about you the other day,' she said, not turning her face away from the screen.

'Oh right,' he answered.'ok.' After a moment he finally asked, 'when are Dudley and Uncle Vernon coming back?'

'Tomorrow.'

He nodded. Tomorrow. It had been nice without them. For him anyway.

* * *

Later on that evening they made pizza. He felt a sense of accomplishment when he saw the cheese browning off in the oven, and felt even prouder once he tasted it. It was scrumptious and yummy and he could even say that he felt content at this moment. His aunt ate her pizza with a knife and fork and he was eating it with his hands, slice by slice. She looked vaguely amused at him and he thought he detected a smile when the stringy cheese wrapped around his fingers. An amiable silence followed and she passed him garlic bread and he tried to remember if his aunt had ever eaten pizza in his company before - and he couldn't.

After dinner he helped her clean up the kitchen and then she stunned him even more by suggesting they watch a video. Dudley had many videos - he could pick one. He felt an unbidden glow of pleasure in his chest. He had always wanted this kind of relationship with his aunt but had never dared to imagine that he could. Well they weren't exactly talking but still it was more than anything they had ever had before.

She made some tea and settled down on the sofa as he rifled through the videos. He was sure if Uncle Vernon were here, he wouldn't even be allowed to breathe in the direction of the video cabinet let alone touch it. But he wasn't and Harry happily picked a film that looked interesting, keeping in mind that his aunt was also watching.

He inserted the video and went and sat down on the same sofa as her. She handed him a cushion which he tucked behind his back and followed her suit by tucking his legs up on the sofa. The film started and they spent a pleasant two hours having a laugh here and there. He was amazed; he didn't think his aunt was the type of person to laugh. It was weird, getting to know people. She was happy with Dudley, she laughed with him Harry was sure. He felt a vague ache and chased it away quickly. He didn't want anything ruining today.

And later that evening when he was in bed, he fell asleep with a smile on his face. He had gotten a haircut, new glasses, new clothes, ate out, had a pizza and watched a video. It hadn't been a bad day at all.

He had been too scared to enjoy it earlier but now looking back at it - it had been the best day he had ever spent at Privet Drive.

* * *

The next morning started off easily. His aunt had made him tea and he poured some cereal as she ate some toast. They ate together and she even commented how nicely the flowers had bloomed this year. She loved her garden and Harry now looked out of the window and admired the perfect grass and neat side beds for the first time.

'Um, do you want help with anything?' he offered and she shook her head.

'No, I'm just going to water the plants and put out some weed killer. I'll be fine.'

He nodded, 'uh okay, maybe I'll go and have a bath?'

'Yes, that's fine,' she answered and they ate in companionable silence.

* * *

It was odd how much difference a few hours can make in one's life. How everything can change in a space of just a few hours. As Harry had his bath, his uncle and Dudley were in the car on their way home. It would take them a few hours to arrive and in that time Harry and his aunt would have a nice lunch. She would comment that his new shirt and jeans looked very nice on him. She would watch his face as he ate. He would blush and she would look at him intently behind veiled eyes and he would duck his head, feeling a little embarrassed but also a little happy at the compliments.

Meanwhile, Dudley would complain loudly that he needed a service station and Uncle Vernon would angrily pull into the closest one and he and Dudley would then argue about the radio station for another ten miles. Back in Surrey, Harry and his aunt would be washing the dishes and his aunt would look at Harry as he puts away the plates and glasses.

In the afternoon, Dudley would whine that he was hungry and his father and he have not been talking for half an hour because Dudley has mouthed off and Uncle Vernon has a back ache from sleeping in a tent all this time. However, Uncle Vernon pulls into yet another service station and he and Dudley eat a very early dinner at Burger King. Meanwhile, Aunt Petunia makes tea again and her and Harry have biscuits and Harry even flicks through some magazines as she watches her afternoon soaps.

A few hours later, it's approaching dinner time and Uncle Vernon has just taken the junction that turns off at Surrey. Dudley needs the toilet again and his father insists that he will just have to wait till they reach home. Dudley is grumpy and can't wait to get home and go out with his friends. His father tells him no, not tonight, they argue some more and both of them can't wait to get home.

Aunt Petunia puts a pot roast in the oven and Harry peels potatoes for dinner. Uncle Vernon turns into Privet Drive just as Harry finishes peeling and washes his hands. The garage door opens and Harry sighs, because they are back. Aunt Petunia smiles and Harry feels his spirits swoop low as her face lights up and she rushes to open the door.

'How's my _Diddykins_,' she squeals as she opens the door and Dudley traipses in lugging a huge bag after him. He looks tired and miserable. Harry comes out of the kitchen wiping his hands on a dishcloth as Uncle Vernon heaves in another large bag, looking red in the face and panting.

'Oh, Vernon,' Aunt Petunia says and rushes over to him to give him a hand. Dudley eyes Harry suspiciously before he launches into the toilet and Uncle Vernon collapses onto the sofa in the living room.

'Vernon,' Aunt Petunia fusses. 'Let me make you some tea and dinner will be ready soon.'

'Yes, dear, thank you,' he answers, mopping his brow with a tissue. 'It's been quite a drive I can tell you.'

'Well, you can tell me all about your trip over dinner,' she tells her husband sweetly.

* * *

Harry who had been watching all this time sighed and went into the kitchen. Dudley came out of the toilet and came into the kitchen doing up his flies as he walked. Harry looked at him grimly and Dudley sniffed the air.

'Mmm,' he licked his lips loudly and went over to the oven, peering into it. He stood up and then turned his attention towards Harry.

'There's something different about you…' he said slowly, squinting at Harry considering.

Harry remained tight lipped and after a moment Dudley exclaimed, 'you've had your hair cut.'

'You reckon?' Harry said sarcastically.

Dudley's brow creased as his gaze fell over Harry again. 'And you've got new clothes…' His mouth opened and he narrowed his eyes. 'How did you get them?' he questioned Harry and Harry said nothing.

'Mum!!' Dudley yelled and Harry shook his head at Dudley's antics.

'Yes, my darling?' she said coming into the kitchen.

'How come he's wearing new clothes?' Dudley demanded and Aunt Petunia stopped short. Harry looked at her as her eyes dropped. She stayed silent as Uncle Vernon came into the kitchen.

'What's going on?' he said loudly. 'Dudley?'

Dudley pointed at Harry, 'him…look at him.'

Uncle Vernon looked at Harry and Harry felt a prickle of unease settle over him. His aunt was clearly having second thoughts about all the things she had bought him. Harry wasn't sure how he could lie his way through it. He guessed that he could try.

'There were birthday gifts,' he stated simply, his back pressed against the wall, near the cooker.

Uncle Vernon snorted, 'yes well you still look like a lout.' He began to walk away when he turned back and faced Harry again. Aunt Petunia was watching her husband with darting eyes and Dudley was watching the scene with rapt amusement. He always loved it when Harry was getting picked on.

'You had a haircut?'

Harry exhaled heavily. 'Yes and what?' he said rudely and his uncle swiftly launched near to him.

'What did you say, _Boy_?' his eyes darkened and his already frayed temper just thinned a little more.

'I said so what if I had a haircut?' Harry said defiantly. He was so sick of getting pushed around and talked to like crap by this man.

Uncle Vernon's nostrils flared and his top lip curled upwards nastily.

'_What did you say, Boy?_'

Harry shook his head, 'forget it…'

'Don't speak to my father like that,' Dudley said adding more smoke to the fire.

'You think with some new clothes and a haircut you're going to have an attitude are you?' Uncle Vernon breathed onto Harry's face. He was now leaning into Harry and Harry tried to move his head back and side step him.

'It doesn't matter,' Harry said, looking toward the passageway.

'No?' Uncle Vernon said. He then turned to his wife, 'did you take him to the hairdressers, Petunia?'

His wife looked at him stricken and Harry felt his heart plunge.

'Well he needed it…' she justified.

'So,' his uncle advanced again.' My wife attempts to make you look like a civilised being and _this_ is how you repay her?'

Harry couldn't believe the twist of words and sentences, and how everything double backed and ended up being _his _fault.

'No, Uncle Vernon,' Harry said with forced politeness.

'No?' his uncle repeated with a sinister air.

It was odd, normally his uncle would have got angry and yelled and by now walked away or told Harry to get out of his sight, but today he was like a dog with a bone. As if he wanted to have an argument, as if he wanted to have a fight. And Dudley was watching with relish and his aunt was standing in a corner watching with a motionless expression…

'Vernon…' Aunt Petunia finally said and Uncle Vernon spun around to glance at her.

'Mummy!' Dudley interjected, 'he was rude to daddy.' Dudley wasn't stupid. He knew his father was annoyed at him and so it was better to get him riled about Harry and have him take his temper out on Harry rather than on Dudley himself.

'You're nothing but an unappreciative layabout,' Uncle Vernon turned back and hissed at Harry. 'You'll not amount to anything just like your irresponsible parents. You just take and take and give back _nothing_ in return. Why don't you go back to where you belong you _little freak_,' he spat out and Harry recoiled. He pushed his uncle away and was going to walk past when his uncle grabbed at him.

'DON'T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME!' he thundered and Harry's head snapped back in disbelief.

The next few moments came about fast. Harry tried to grab his arm back and Aunt Petunia gasped. Dudley tripped back a little by the chairs and Uncle Vernon dug his meaty fingers into Harry's upper arm painfully.

'_Get off me_,' Harry said angrily.

His uncle's eyes had a manic look in them and he ruptured, '_you little ungrateful...._' He swung his other hand swiftly down onto Harry's face catching him heavily against the side of his face. Hard. Harry felt the sound of his jaw crunch in his head and fell back against the wall with the impact, stunned. Up till now his uncle had never hit him before. He had roughly handled Harry many times and his attempts at strangling Harry had always failed, but he had never raised his hand and hit him before.

'_Vernon_' his aunt screamed as Harry brought his hand up to his stinging face. He had bit his tongue, he was sure of it or his lip, as a flood of flavour coloured his mouth. Blood. A flavour he was all too familiar with. His uncle moved away slightly as Harry tottered onto his legs, regaining his balance.

His uncle looked shocked himself and was breathing with short gasps that raised his ponderous stomach up and down. The air was silent and thick in the kitchen. Harry swallowed and took in a few deep breaths.

'_You're an animal_,' he whispered and looked his uncle straight in the eye. That once again roused his uncle's anger and he shot towards Harry, about to slap him with all the force he could muster. And just then _it_ happened. Harry felt his body jolt. His fingers tingled, his heart pounded and his eyes felt like they were on fire.

'_NO,_' he cried out and it was as if a huge power surge ran through his body and electrified the air around him. All at once his uncle was picked off his feet and thrown hard across the room. He smashed into the table, landing on it and breaking it down the middle with a loud sickening crash. The chairs scraped and scattered across the tiles loudly and it was too much noise in too short a time. It was so loud in those few seconds. Noise in an instant.

'_Vernon_,' his aunt screamed and Dudley ran towards his father calling out, '_daddy_,' in anguish.

Harry stood by the wall shaking uncontrollably, his teeth chattering. His eyes were burning and his head was humming. He gasped as he felt himself grow hot as if a high fever had gripped him. He stumbled and fell to his knees. His aunt was bent over her husband crying out his name pitifully. She turned to look at Harry and looked pale with rage.

_'I thought you could no longer do any magic_,' she said venomously. 'I thought it was _over_.'

Harry felt his heart leaden as he realised what she had just said. His uncle wasn't moving and he looked on with shocked eyes.

Suddenly there was frantic knocking at the front door but no one went to answer it. Aunt Petunia was sobbing and Dudley was trying to wake his father up.

'Mr and Mrs Dursley,' a voice came through the letter box. 'Could you please open the door…'

The voice sounded familiar but Harry did not move from the floor.

'Harry!' the voice implored, 'open the door or we will have to come in the other way.'

But Harry was too dazed and overwhelmed to do anything. A moment later the door opened and in came four men, one of which was Arthur Weasley.

'Harry…' he said as soon as he spotted him and walked over to Harry quickly as the other three wizards went over to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

'What happened?' Mr Weasley asked Harry, gently touching his arm. Harry stared ahead, his mind in a fog. 'The ministry detected magic in front of Muggles and we were sent an alert immediately when they identified it as your house.' Harry didn't say anything and Mr Weasley looked at the Dursleys huddled together. The uncle twitched slightly as one of the wizards pointed his wand at him. The aunt let out a shriek and was hushed quickly as the uncle started to awaken.

'Harry…' Mr Weasley said again. 'Come on get up.' He helped Harry to his feet, looking with concerned eyes at the trail of blood smearing Harry's mouth.

'How did this happen?' He asked as one of the wizards turned to face him and give him a reassuring nod.

Mr Weasley nodded back and then the aunt spoke in a strangled voice, get the _Boy_ out of here.' And Harry looked down, closing his eyes as her words struck him with the force of a physical blow.

'Harry, come along,' Mr Weasley said grimly. 'Let's take you somewhere where we can have a look at you and you can explain what happened.' He led a heavy-footed Harry into the passage and to the stairs. Harry sat down numbly and the wizard hunched near him.

'How did your uncle end up on the floor, Harry? The ministry are going to need an explanation and I said that I wanted to be the one to talk to you first. It was magic wasn't it? Did you have your wand?' But clearly Harry was not holding a wand.

'What happened to your face, Harry?' Mr Weasley asked urgently as Harry rested his head in his hands in a despairing motion.

'Harry!' he said frantically. 'Your uncle is fine, but I need to know how that blood got on your face. Have you been sick again?'

Harry shook his head and Mr Weasley felt helpless as he looked at him. 'Then what happened?'

'I can't remember exactly,' Harry whispered. 'But I felt like I was on fire and then my uncle just sort of… I did it…I know I did it.'

'Harry,' Mr Weasley said slowly, 'it appears as if your magic is back. It wasn't your fault, I'm not saying it was but what happened to trigger it? Something must have happened and I need to know what.'

'I can't remember,' Harry said and shook his head. 'It just came back. I…..umm… it just came back.'

Mr Weasley stood up and sighed, looking down at Harry who was sitting on the stairs with hunched shoulders, his head bent low. The voices of the Auror's in the kitchen could be heard through the hallway. Mr Weasley was sure they would sort out the situation as they saw fit and necessary.

'I have a port key, Harry, and it will take us to Diagon Alley. Someone will get all your things together and bring them to you later on, but in the meanwhile let's get going all right?'

Harry nodded dumbly and got up. Mr Weasley's lips tightened as the blood started to trickle down Harry's chin and he quickly reached for a handkerchief, dabbing at the small stream of red.

And as Harry walked outside the house, he was sure that this had been the worst day he had ever had at Privet Drive.

* * *

**Karina**** hiccupping - I am always afraid of stink pellets! Cos of _slow development_ – I get a little wary of losing readers… but there is a point to all of it. You have to say the rest of the alphabet in order to get from A to Z right? Hee. At least they were long chapters!**

**Chapter fourteen is back to school – with Harry and Draco under the same roof once again. And I should not be too long with that! These past two months have been a little something but hopefully I'm past it :o) Plus my little story is eager to unfold! **

**Thank you to:** glitch04, Strawberry Pavlova, Sayiera, Rachael – **For Reviewing The Chariot**

**Thank you to:** C. Night, SeparatriX, riantlykalopsic, Robin the bird, Marshes to Banks, zafaran, Maxine-chan, Bad-Azz-Slytherin Chaos, Brenna8, Sheila , RainSW6, silva star, shola , Kittydemon, SilverYami, Peilless, jinx, Desolate, Jacqueline91, Dragenphly, Lyra Skywalker, Lily Michelle, Draco's Punk Rock Chick, SlytherinSexGoddess, Alora, WhisperElmwood, l'Ciel, Alice, RSSLSCTZ, coolio, glitch04 , Jean, Chyna16, Sayiera, dadelius, Lily, Bloodyrose, SlytherinSexGoddess – **For Reviewing The Hermit**

**And thanks to**: Lyra Skywalker – **For Reviewing With A Kiss**


	14. Under It Lays

**Disclaimer: Miss Rowling who continues to write and own rights to the fabulous world of Harry Potter gets all the warm glowies for her marvellous imagination. **

**_The Hermit is the continuation of The Chariot (in case anyone hasn't realised somehow)._**

**Thank you _coffeecat_ for still having the patience to work with me! My lovely beta helped so much with this chapter as it was so pukey before. She made me put some life back into it.**

**I guess there isn't any need for me to make apologies as I _know _that you_ know_ I would love to make updates all the time, but time just doesn't allow for it. Let's just keep it to – I will update always as soon as I can! (Although I do update my ''bio'' whenever I want to tell you something). **

**In this Chapter, Draco and Harry are back to school- starting their final year. **

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen – Under It Lays**

'Mum, you didn't have to come with me you know,' I said lazily as I stared out of the carriage window.

'Draco,' my mother retorted tartly, 'This is the _last _time I'm going to be taking you to school. Of course I was going to come and see you off. You wouldn't take that honour away from a mother now would you? To see off her only child?' She looked at me raising her brow, something that I did often. I wonder if I got that particular trait from her... Her lips formed a full pout and I caught her eye. She smirked then, her cherry lips parting to reveal pearly white teeth. My mother has very nice teeth – so do I. So does my dad.

'Why?' she said continuing to tease me. 'Getting too old are we?' She cooed. 'Too old for your mother to hang around you?' She chuckled and I shook my head and shrugged with a slight smile. Maybe I was getting too old. But I guess I would always be her little boy no matter how old I grew.

'No, just, you know… you didn't have to bother,' I replied vaguely.

'I wanted to, enough said,' she retorted shortly, her lips setting together firmly. I had annoyed her.

I sighed and watched the scenery change as we entered the heart of London. We had Apparated from Wiltshire to the outskirts of London and then travelled by carriage to the station. I was getting the hang of Apparation and had passed it rather easily a few weeks ago. I had thought that it would be harder than it actually was. And afterwards, I remember very clearly receiving my certificate and looking towards the door expectantly. Waiting for my father to walk through and congratulate me. He would hug me briefly and tell me that he was proud of me and I would feel elated by his rare show of approval.

But of course he did no such thing and I missed him awfully in that moment. I know my mother did too; so neither of us mentioned it. It was easier that way. We hardly spoke of him - it hurt less if we didn't. But as the months are passing by, it's getting harder and harder to remember my father in his physical form. What it was like to actually have him around in person. He was scarily becoming a memory and I hated that feeling. The feeling of my father slipping away from me. I know my mother has said to not feel sorry for him. She has said time and time again that my father was responsible for his own actions and had, 'no one to blame but himself'. But, be that as it may, it still sucked horribly. Like someone pissing all over your new presents.

I sat back in the seat and reflected on my final year. School would be all over soon. And I was legally an adult. I'm not sure if I want to be. A few weeks ago I couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts but, as I was now getting closer and closer to being there, I suddenly didn't want to return. I didn't want to slip back into what I had become last term. I couldn't. It had been too awful and too hard and as much as I wanted to see Harry - at the same time I didn't. At this moment in time, my biggest sentiment towards Harry was that I was severely pissed off at him. So pissed that I couldn't think about him without grinding my teeth together. I touched my pocket in my cloak that was currently housing Harry's letter that he had so _thoughtfully_ sent me a few weeks ago. It still kicked off the same frustrated feeling I had as when I read it the first time through.

_Hi Draco,_

_Thanks a lot for the letters, birthday present and card, it was very kind of you. I hope you are enjoying your summer holidays._

_Take Care._

_Harry_

My mouth grimaced in disgust. What a load of bullshit. Really? That was the crapest letter ever. EVER. Either Harry was a complete shit letter writer or he had been too preoccupied to write me a decent note. And, being the shortest letter in the world, it hadn't told me anything at all other than Harry had received my mail. Nothing about how he was. How he was doing. How he was feeling. There was nothing personal in the letter at all to tell me about his well-being. More to the point, nothing about us. Nothing about what had happened at the end of last term. The letter told me squat in fact. I chewed on the inside of my lip feeling myself all riled up again. All summer I had been worried sick about Harry and hadn't heard from him for the longest time - and then I receive that piece of piffle. Twenty-nine words to be exact. What a pile of shit.

I heaved another sigh and my mother glanced at me fondly. 'So, huffy, when are you going to shave?'

I gave her a one-shoulder shrug, 'don't know. I will….soon. When I can be bothered.'

And I honestly couldn't be right now. I knew I didn't look bad with the slight brushing of hair across my jaw but more to the point I just couldn't be arsed to shave it off. I had my hair cut short so I didn't look so unkempt. Though it had been out of necessity rather than vanity as it had been so hot in France and I had become sick of the feeling of my hair brushing across my nape.

My mother reached out with soft hands and lovingly stroked my cheek, her fingers brushing against the short blonde whiskers on my face.

'Your father looked like this for a while when he was younger,' she reminisced, her eyes looking into her distant memories. 'It made him look so rugged and handsome yet he managed to make it look rather elegant.' She turned her attention back at me, 'just like you do. The hairs still short so it just gives you that burnished look. It makes you look older - all the girls will be following you around even more,' she stated with a glib smile.

I frowned back at her at the thought of simpering girls following me around. There was Pansy, who just annoyed the hell out of me and just made me want to do violent things to her, and then there was Blaise, who I was keeping in contact with - if only to keep her satisfied so she wouldn't go round telling people what she 'thought' she had seen last term.

The carriage started to slow down and I knew that we were nearing the station. There were two entrances to platform 9 ¾. One was through the Muggle station which I had never and would never enter from and the other, the entrance that most established Wizarding families used, was on the street, disguised as a window in a building that you walked through and ended up on the platform. This was the entrance I had used all my life.

'Pansy's mother will be here,' mother said as the carriage rocked gently to a stand still. 'She and I are going to go to lunch.' I made a noncommittal sound in my throat and mother looked at me reprovingly before picking up her cloak and draping it over herself.

The carriage driver leapt down outside and shuffled quickly as he opened the door for us. I got out and held out my hand for my mother to take as she came down the steps. Her eyes immediately took on a remote look and I looked behind me to see what had made them change so dramatically. There were Aurors standing guard at the station and they passed accusatory eyes towards my mother and me. I wasn't sure what crime we were guilty of other than being Malfoys. I gave my mother a reassuring look and she squeezed my hand gently as she stepped down onto the ground.

'Remember what I said, Draco,' she whispered under her breath as we walked past them and towards the 'window'. I nodded and gave a sweeping look of contempt at a tall, black Auror who had his arms crossed across his chest.

I had been told, once again, not to, under any circumstances, get involved with anyone who said they were working for the 'Dark Lord'. I was to steer clear of anyone who was about to cause trouble in the school or anyone who started preaching about recruiting Death Eaters. I was to go to Dumbledore immediately and discretely if anyone so much as mentioned mine or my father's name in any harebrained breaking out of prison scenarios.

'Keep you head down and just get on with your school work,' mother had said _again_ for the second year running. I agreed to abide by her requests. It was the least I could do for her.

We stepped onto the station platform and immediately were greeted with pupils of all shapes and sizes amongst some tearful parents and some not so much. I saw Theodore's mother standing in the corner, Theodore standing by her side looking sullen and moody. My gaze stilled on him for a second before moving away though unfortunately not going unnoticed by my mother.

'What was that all about?' she asked.

'Mmm? Nothing really. We had a little run in last year that's all,' I said as casually as possible. Theodore was so quiet half the time that it would be hard to believe that he was capable of having a run in with anybody. But he had changed, as had I, I guessed.

'What run in? Why didn't you tell me?' My mother looked concerned.

'Because it was nothing that's why, nothing to worry about,' I told her promptly and she gave me a sour look.

'Just stay out of his way then, Draco. He has had problems over summer.' Her voice dropped back down as she whispered softly, 'they were under house arrest I heard and Theodore was most upset. I'm glad we weren't here for the summer.'

I hummed in agreement, all the while trying to spot a certain black-haired boy. I just wanted to have the sense of peace in knowing that he was here and safe and sound and then I could carry on avoiding him and ignoring him and trying to get him to notice me by _not_ noticing him. If that would work at all. Of course his was the one head I couldn't distinguish amongst all the crap; i.e., as in red heads and frizzy heads.

Just then I heard a brittle, old voice and turned to face Longbottom's grandmother. She was fixing his collar and adjusting something on his jumper. My lips curled up nastily, an involuntary action - half the time I wasn't even aware I was doing it but Longbottom drew such expressions from me easily. Nonetheless I carried on watching as the old lady fussed over him. What was she doing to his jumper? I looked on carefully. Longbottom was wearing a brooch?? Gross. And then my eyes narrowed as the old woman's fingers moved away to reveal a shiny, silver badge.

Anger consumed me in an instant and it was inconceivable and unbelievable that Longbottom had been made _Head Boy_. Even to utter such words was blasphemy; but it was true. He was Head Boy. The evidence was staring me right in the face. I squelched down my fury and tried to pretend that I hadn't noticed. I didn't want to be Head Boy - it was too much attention and responsibility but I really didn't want Longbottom to have received that honour either. In hindsight, I recalled Longbottom running around last term a lot more, taking care of the younger students and helping out generally. But seriously how desperate would Dumbledore have been to select the fat lard as Head Boy?

I took a fleeting moment of interest on who had been made Head Girl - though the likelihood of it being a Slytherin was very slim. We didn't really have many starring female role models in our year. Though Pansy was still a Prefect - but she was rather thick plus she simpered a lot – and, if that was the path that Dumbledore would have chosen, she would have been the ideal candidate. I tried to take some small consolation in the fact that it wasn't Weasley who had been made Head Boy; but Longbottom was just as irksome and the embarrassment factor of being bested by him could possibly be a little higher than that of Weasley.

'Draco!!' came a sharp excited squeal and I turned my head to see Pansy running over to me. Why does she not get the hint? I'm not interested in her that way at all.

'Mrs Malfoy,' she fawned and mother shook Pansy's hand politely, though looked a little bored in doing it. Pansy's mother walked over quickly. She was a short, slightly overweight woman who, like her daughter, was always trying to please mother.

'Hello, Draco, Narcissa,' she acknowledged us with a smile and a nod and mother returned her greetings with an automatic beam. The smile that she did on request of delivery - the smile that never lit up her eyes. Her fake smile. She didn't really like Pansy's mother - I don't think she liked all that many people to be honest. But neither did I.

Pansy beamed at us with the force of Lumos igniting her teeth and I looked her over feeling indifferent. She didn't make me feel anything apart from being annoyed or irritated with her sometimes. I couldn't help it.

'You look fantastic…' she said her eyes lighting up as she looked at me. I would rather she didn't.

'Doesn't he?' my mother replied only increasing the depth of Pansy's smile. I wonder if it is possible enough to smile so wide that it splits your skin... I gave a thin smile and looked around the platform some more.

'Oh there's Vincent,' I yelled out, distracting the Parkinson's from their brown nosing repartee. I shot a smile at my mother and went over to Vincent.

Ten minutes later I was standing with my friends and ready to board the train. I hugged my mother impulsively, not caring if everyone on the platform saw me. I kissed her cheek warmly and whispered in her ear, 'take care, mum, all right?'

She stroked my face tenderly and smiled, saying, 'you too.' I began to move away and then came back for another hug and she laughed out loud, 'I'll be all right,' she said. And I hoped she was and would be. She was returning to France tomorrow and no doubt would be staying there till Christmas. I gave her a small smile and then climbed onto the train.

I still hadn't seen Harry. He hadn't joined his friends…'Draco,' came a female voice, though this time lower and more forceful. It was Blaise and she was waving at me from one of the compartments. I joined her along with Greg, Vincent and Malcolm. Pansy walked on by the aisle and was no doubt sharing a compartment with Millicent. I deliberately maintained a tight hold on myself so I would sit tight rather than bound up and down the train in pursuit of Harry's whereabouts. I couldn't start all that up again so soon. It had hardly been two minutes since I had been 'back to school'. The least I could do was converse a little with my housemates…

* * *

But twenty minutes later I was feeling itchy. My mind was elsewhere and I wasn't concentrating on anything anybody was saying. All I wanted to do was to get up and find him. Feeling annoyed with oneself is rather uncomfortable. I felt a surge of self-revulsion as I muttered something about using the toilet and got up and slipped out of the door. I could only assume that Harry was sitting with Weasley and Granger and somehow I had missed him. That's what I hoped anyway. I knew I would end up doing this sooner or later – I just didn't think twenty minutes would be my limit. I didn't have a lot of will power clearly. But as I walked past the various doors, looking through the windows, I tried to convince myself that I was just going to _check up_ on him. I wasn't going to hang around and make a fool of myself again. 

I casually peered through more windows as I neared the toilet that I would have to use to relieve my fake bladder. There was still no sign of him and I started to feel worried. He was returning to school wasn't he? Could it be possible that he wasn't? I all too quickly ended up by the toilets, having looked through all the compartments. I crossed my arms and decided the second I stepped off the train I was going to find Dumbledore and demand to know where Harry was.

God, I hoped he was ok, I felt sick to think that he wasn't. He had to be all right. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to him again…. There was an occupied sign on the toilet door and I eyed it whilst having morbid thoughts fly across my mind. Maybe I should have contacted Professor Snape before I left and asked him whether Harry was all right…I should have…

There was the sound of the lock sliding open as the gent's door pushed outwards. And out walked Harry.

I looked at him in shock, as my arms fell limply by my sides. Harry's eyes gripped mine in all their full glory. I saw the change in a split second. They were green again. The deep, rich glowing green that made me think of fresh, glossy leaves and wet emeralds. My mouth was open, I knew it but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his.

'Hey,' he said softly and I fell in love all over again. I ripped my eyes away to look at the rest of his face. A touch of pink was highlighting his cheekbones and he looked so different. He'd grown taller and had a hair cut…and had new glasses. I registered all this in the space of a few moments as my eyes rove over him hungrily. I had been parched dry and he was sweet liquid slipping down my throat. He was blushing perhaps but I couldn't find my voice; I just wanted to drink him in. My chest hurt, my heart ached.

I am doomed, I know it. For all my tough talk, here I was rendered speechless by the mere presence of this solitary person standing in front of me. Just to hear that tiny word from his lips made me warm all over. He was here and I was near him. His voice so familiar and dear. And it was almost as if no time had passed at all. That the summer had just been a dream and he was my reality because I was here and now and this was all that mattered. Yet he had no idea as to what effect he had on me. I think it is quite an accomplishment to take someone's breath away and not even know it.

Harry's eyes swept downwards and his lashes lowered behind his new metal frames, which I did like but suddenly felt a pang of sentimentality over his old ones. I didn't utter a word as he looked back up at me with a still and quiet presence. I could tell he was looking at my slightly burnished looks, my hair, my face. His eyes scanned my appearance by small flickers of movement. He calmed me. In soft waves. Wrapped over me by being near. And I know I was so annoyed at him about the fucking letter but I couldn't make myself feel all that angry about it right now. Not when I had hungered to see him for so long and he presents himself in this adorable way that he has, of accidentally stumbling across me yet not moving past or going away. He will just stand there and let me gaze even though he was feeling embarrassed as I knew he was, by the tell-tale red tingeing his cheeks.

My mouth fought to open and I realised how dumb I must look just standing there staring at him. I did want to appear aloof but had only succeeded in salivating over him. He did look beautiful with his new haircut. The prominent lightning scar could be seen clearly upon a smooth forehead. I felt a small twinge at the loss of the layered black locks that had felt so nice in between my fingers. But this haircut was very nice also. It made Harry look much older. And chiselled. It showed off his jaw and cheekbones rather effectively. He looked great.

And his magic had returned. It must have– his eyes, they were back to ''normal''. They seemed even more hued with the fierce green shining intensely. I stared at him staring at me and my eyes dropped lower down Harry's body making mental observations of his height and weight. Summer had definitely been good to Harry. He looked bloody gorgeous. And it would be so much harder to be mad at him.

I took a deep breath and then reset my features to look as unfriendly as possible. My chin raised, eyes narrowing, mouth drawn.

'So did you have a _good_ summer?' I asked, my voice sounding sarcastic even to my own ears.

Harry opened his mouth and hesitated and then wet his bottom lip before replying, 'oh umm yeah it was uh all right.' I wished I were a toad or a frog or something, just so I could snake out my forked tongue and swat and swallow his into my mouth.

But I responded as coolly as possible and said, 'that's good.'

Harry's eyes were dark and potent in their intoxicating depths as they floundered in expression behind the glinting glasses. What was he thinking? I would really love to know. I just watched him as he scratched the side of his thigh and looked around the small space we were in and then back at me. Maybe he was waiting for me to speak some more.

'Did you have a good summer?' Harry asked after a few seconds. 'You enjoyed France?'

I flinched slightly and my eyes narrowed further. So Harry had _read_ my letters, he just hadn't bothered to give me a decent reply. I tried to not roll my eyes and tutt very loudly.

I let out a noisy breath and replied, 'yeah it was really _good_ actually. I had a great time.' I stuck out my chin pointedly and Harry blinked endearingly.

'That's umm good. I'm glad,' he said and I rolled my bottom lip under my teeth. My brows suddenly furrowed as I looked past Harry's initial appearance, and noticed the smaller cracks in his otherwise flawless appearance. He was still so pale and I looked positively tanned next to him. And I hadn't very much at all. I wanted to express my concern on how he looked tense and a little bit tired and maybe he sensed this. Sensed that I was seeing what he didn't want me to see.

'I should get back,' he said and I pressed my lips shut and nodded, letting Harry pass. I couldn't chase after him again. My life couldn't be all about him could it?

* * *

We reached school by late evening, unpacked and then had dinner. The welcome speech introduced the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher; some man called Nicholas Knightly and I immediately decided that I didn't like him. He looked creepy and later on when I got a closer look at him, my suspicions were confirmed. He was tall and thin with very dark hair and his most outstanding feature was his eyes. They were different colours - one blue and one brown, which made his face looked odd and tilted. It also affirmed what I suspected. He was a son of a hag and my eyes fell to his shoes just to make sure his feet weren't pointing backwards. He was creepy - hags were creepy. His mother probably ate his father. Trust Dumbledore to employ such a person for the Dark Arts position. Having a half-decent teacher for the post was apparently against the school rules and I think there was a clause in the contract somewhere that stated that the position was only for a year. 

The Head Boy and Girl (some brown-haired Ravenclaw girl called Morag MacDougal) were introduced to the school and I deliberately didn't clap. Neither did Vincent or Greg. I wasn't going to clap for Dungbottom becoming Head Boy. I glanced over to Harry who was sitting next to Finnigan. His head was twisted to the right looking towards the staff table. He didn't see me and that's unusual – NOT. Unfortunately, I caught Weasley's eye as I looked away and we looked at each other without blinking for a few seconds before I swept my eyes away. I could feel various looks from the other house tables and mentally prepared myself once again for Slytherin to be even more ousted and segregated. Deep down I was hoping that somehow this year would turn out better than last year. It couldn't get any worse could it?

* * *

Over the next week, I tried to keep my distance from Harry with a combination of stubbornness, pride and pure childishness. Every time I saw him, I wanted to fold myself against him. I wanted to talk to him and be near him; but it seemed he was always surrounded by people. I could never get him alone and really didn't want to start sneaking around and waiting around corners for him like I did last year. Also the homework had already started to pile on and I was determined to finish school with excellent NEWTS. 

One evening I was in the library doing homework with Blaise. She was quite smart I realised and we worked rather well together, researching and theorising. Harry was sitting not too far away with Granger and Weasley and I could conveniently see him in front of me without any obstruction. Granger and Weasley had glanced at me before they had sat down and I gave them a dispassionate look back. I wasn't sure what they were thinking and even though we had had that talk last term, it didn't change anything. I was sure they hadn't told anyone what I had told them and they could plainly see that Harry and I never talked in front of them. Though it was all a little up in the air with neither of us making anything clear about where we all stood and what our intentions were but it would have to do.

Ten minutes later I heard Weasley exclaim loudly beneath a lowered hiss.

'…. what do you _mean_ you're _not_ coming back on the team?'

All eyes nearby indicated that they had heard his outburst and turned towards their table. Granger immediately noticed the quick attention and tried to stop Weasley from talking any further. But Weasley was focused on Harry who was sitting rigidly in his place, his facial expression detached and distant, his glasses reflecting the light that his eyes did not. Granger grabbed at Weasley's arm and Weasley tried to lower his voice.

'What do you _mean,_ Harry?' he hissed again but I could still hear him. Blaise raised her eyebrows in interest and cocked her ear to eavesdrop. I gave her a look and then dropped my head to my books, though still listening. Obviously.

'I'm not playing Quidditch that's all,' Harry said quietly in a dispassionate voice.

'But I thought you couldn't _wait_ to play again, I mean after last term and everything I thought you'd want things to be as normal as could be. We _need_ you on the team. This is our last year. I'm Captain and we could win, Harry…'

Harry didn't respond and Weasley shook his head in irritation. Frankly, he looked ticked off. In high doses.

'I don't believe you….'he got up suddenly and picked up his bag, shooting Harry a despairing look. 'I just don't get you sometimes. I really don't,' and with that he stalked off leaving Granger looking very awkward.

Harry dropped his eyes and took in a deep breath, staring at his parchment. He was thinking and feeling guilty, I could tell. His brows furrowed momentarily and he swallowed. Granger leaned over towards him and whispered something inaudible and Harry nodded. She then got up looking apologetic and picked up her things and left Harry alone sitting at the table. I wanted to get up and go sit by him….he looked so damn lonely. He ran a hand over his head and attempted to pick up his quill and start writing but it was obvious that his mind was elsewhere.

There was a lot of hushed whispering and Harry was trying to ignore it. So all right, Harry didn't want to come back to the Quidditch team. Maybe he was tired or not feeling fit enough to play. There could be a number of reasons why he didn't want to - but it had sounded like Weasley was angry and frustrated about a lot more than Harry not re-joining the team. Maybe he and Harry had words over the week and Weasley had snapped on his last twig in exasperation. Harry did tend to have that affect on you. Snapping you in half.

I also tried to ignore the hushed voices whispering about what they had just heard. I ran a hand over the back of my neck and Blaise grinned at me, 'looks like Slytherin are winning again this year' she beamed widely but I couldn't smile back. I turned back to my books, with my thoughts strongly drifting towards the black-headed Gryffindor sitting in front of me.

* * *

It was apparent that relations between Weasley and Harry were strained. There was no laughter accompanying the Gryffindor pack as they walked around school. Granger usually stood between the two boys and Harry had a permanent closed-off expression, as if no words or gestures could break through his veneer. He was beautiful and pained and broody and everyone was noticing much to my disgust. I didn't want anyone to notice him - I wanted to be the only one who noticed him. He was mine to notice, nobody else's. But I couldn't get close to him. He didn't want me. And I didn't want him to not want me so it was better that I stayed away from him and just kept an eye on him. That way I maintained my sanity and sense instead feeling like trod on crap all the time. 

September started to run into its middle weeks. There were Quidditch tryouts for new players, a new Captain chosen for each team. I shunted away the task myself and nominated Malcolm for captaincy - which he won. Weasley was still Gryffindor Captain and Dennis Creevey was the new Seeker. I snickered at the thought. The skinny wretch wouldn't stand a chance against me and I would make sure I made life as tough as possible on the pitch for Creevey. I was getting increasingly sick and tired of Colin Creevey's over-eager gestures towards Harry since the start of term and had to take out my frustration somehow. Beating his little brother and humiliating him seemed to be a good start. I might even be able to create a little accident and break the boy's leg or something.

One evening I was sitting in the common room surrounded by my housemates and lounging comfortably in a large armchair vaguely listening to the conversation flowing around me. My eyes travelled over to where Pansy and Millicent were sitting. I was rather a good eavesdropper and, feeling a little bored, I tuned into their conversation and instantly wished I hadn't.

'….did you read that article about him in Bewitching Buzz? That when he leaves school he is going to officially make a statement to fight the Dark Lord in a Duel of Deaths…' Millicent nodded her head in agreement as Pansy continued. 'I mean the way he has been recently…he just looks like he doesn't give a damn about anybody and even the Gryffindor's are afraid of him. I mean if someone is a little mad you don't know what he is capable of do you?'

'There was something about him in Chattering Cauldrons last week as well - just a paragraph,' a sixth year girl sitting nearby interrupted.

Pansy leant back in her chair, tottering it on its back legs. 'Yeah? The one where they named him most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding world?'

'Mmmmm, and that he was staying in Diagon Alley the last few weeks of summer holidays,' the girl replied.

'Yeah? Mmm. He looks better doesn't he?' Pansy said. 'Than he used to but still I mean he is a _Potter_.'

I ripped my eyes away and tried to focus on the latest charm Graham had learned and was showing the group. From the corner of my eye, I could see Pansy settle her chair back on its four legs and lean forward towards Millicent as she carried on gossiping about Harry. I felt my blood prickle and boil. I just couldn't stand hearing Harry being talked about in any fashion. Derogatory or otherwise.

I discreetly touched my wand in my cloak and shot out a spell from inside the pocket. Instantly the chair Pansy was sitting on buckled and one of the legs snapped in half. _THUMP_. Pansy slipped off with a start and landed on her bottom, the chair toppling over noisily and smacking her on the head on its way down. Everyone snickered and Pansy's mouth opened in an embarrassed look of surprise.

'Put on a bit of weight there, Pansy?' I commented loudly and my statement was met with a few chuckles. Pansy shot me a hurt look and I raised a brow challengingly and settled further back in my chair.

'Slimming robes for her then,' Blaise muttered wickedly under her breath to me and I grinned back meanly. 'She is getting a little fat,' I said in mock concern and Blaise chortled as Pansy drew herself up off the floor looking at her broken chair with confusion. Of course I couldn't do something so obvious every time someone talked about Harry but it felt good to sometimes punish the instigator in one way or another. Boils, acne, a sneezing fit… the list of minor grievances was endless and I could do some of them undetected.

* * *

The next evening I was waiting for the staircase to turn back to me so I could carry on down to the third floor when I saw Harry below. He wasn't alone and his companion was that tosser Goldstein. I watched with jealous eyes as Goldstein laughed and Harry_ seemed _to be paying attention to what the brown-haired boy was saying. I almost couldn't stand watching them converse. It made my stomach lurch to watch Harry with the dark-haired Prefect. I hated to admit that the boy wasn't hideous and for a moment I could imagine them ''together'' and it made me ill. 

Goldstein was showing something to Harry and Harry leant closer to him to see whatever the hell Goldstein was showing him. It wasn't fair and I hated every second they were standing together - however innocent it might be. Here I was pitched high up on my precipice being forced to look down at the scene that made my imagination run amuck with bad thoughts. Harry wasn't interested in anyone else was he? He couldn't possibly be. I hated the Ravenclaw's. I had hated Chang, I hated Goldstein and I hated MacDougal. There were all a bunch of wankers who gave Slytherin's the evil eye yet never got admonished for their behaviour. They all thought they were such know it alls.

Feeling particularly resentful towards Ravenclaw's I deliberately gave a fourth-year Ravenclaw a detention for doing a spell in the corridor as I proceeded to go along my way later in the day. She said she had only used it because her bag had split and all her items had gone rolling off into different directions. She had done a nifty gathering spell that had done the trick and collected all her belongings together but against the rules is still against the rules - and I took great pleasure in taking away sixty points for not adhering to guidelines and endangering students. She looked pissed - like I cared.

* * *

Monday afternoon, I had just had Arithmancy and was coming down the stairs when I heard two seventh-year girls talking in a rather animated fashion. They weren't from my house so I didn't bother to acknowledge them. My usual instinct was to ignore them and carry on with my journey. When I heard Harry's name mentioned, I stopped immediately and pretended to open up my bag and look through it. The girls were too excited about something to notice me standing in front of them. 

'…tell me, tell me,' some bitch squealed. 'I can't believe I missed it!! Tell me _everything_.' The words were said with great relish and my interest peaked.

'All right,' the other girl said with glee. 'Well we were in Transfiguration, right?'

'Yeah?' a brown ponytail bobbed with a nod.

'So, right, McGonagall asks everyone to transfigure an object into a bird or whatever, right?'

'Yeah? Another eager nod.

'So anyway, McGonagall asks Potter to do it and he's like standing up now but he says no really quietly.'

The other girl's mouth opened in anticipation. I grit my teeth waiting for her just to hurry the fuck up and say whatever had happened.

'McGonagall looks like she hasn't heard him right and she says ''Mr Potter, it's your turn'', and then he says it like louder, ''NO'' and everyone looks at him and he's all still standing there but sorta looking down on the floor, you know what I mean?'

'Yeah?' and now came some hair twisting followed by an eager nod.

'McGonagall says it isn't a voluntary exercise and that everyone has to do it and then Potter says, ''I would rather not'' and she's looking quite angry now and she is like, ''Mr Potter, why do you feel that you don't want to participate in the class?'' and he's starting to look a little angry cos he looks up now and his eyes are all fiery and his hands are clenched.'

The other girl's eyes widened, '_ooohhh_.'

'And then he says ''fine'' and he points his wand at this white vase and says the spell - ONLY it doesn't change to a raven - guess what happens?' A knowing brow is wiggled. _What happened?_

A gaping mouth closed quickly to ask an awed, 'what? What happened?'

'Well, like only the biggest explosion _EVER_. I mean geez, didn't you hear it? The vase goes flying right, and I mean _flying_ right through the wall, like makes this massive hole and it's all singed and you could smell burning. And then there was all this noise and everyone rushed to look through the hole and McGonagall shouts but everyone is too excited or horrified or whatever. And seriously the vase went into the next _room_ and through _that _wall too…' The girl was indicating with her hands now; making small flying gestures with her fingers. 'It went like all the way through…'

An astounded shake of the head and a whispered, 'did he do that on purpose, to teach McGonagall a lesson for telling him what to do?'

'Well no,' the story teller shrugged.' He really didn't want to do it but McGonagall just thought he was being rude. But I haven't felt such a surge of magic before quite like that. I mean you know when Dumbledore passes you by sometimes and you feel goosebumps? I swear it felt like that. Really strong magic. I mean he so has it in him…'

'Wow,' the hair twister said and I waited to see if anything else was to be told.

'He is really powerful isn't he? I mean he really _is_ the only one who can defeat you-know-who. And he kinda looks good doesn't he?'

I instantly recoiled at those words; fuck sake - did _everyone_ have to notice the way Harry looked now? It really was getting on my nerves.

'Yeah he so does, way better than last year even. I always thought he was like _geeky _looking and you know, I always wanted like the Wizarding world hero to be at least really buff but he has totally grown up. I mean he's all sultry and sexy…'

'I know,' the other girl giggled and they started to walk down the stairs. I felt like stuffing my knuckles into my mouth or in her face - either way I was itching to make her shut up.

I chewed on my lip tightly, fighting the urge to do what I wanted to do. Of course the urge won out and I whispered a vanishing spell on the next step the girl who had just spoken was about to take. It disappeared and she put her shoe down onto nothing losing her footing. She stumbled and flung her arms out on the banisters to keep her balance.

'Ow!' she cried out and her friend grabbed a hold of her to steady her arse. I moved past them quickly and continued downstairs.

I simply had to find out what had happened to Harry. I wasn't sure how much had been exaggerated and how much was the actual truth. Harry sent a vase crashing through several walls? It didn't make any particular sense and I couldn't quite imagine the scene the girl had painted.

I zipped down the rest of the flight of stairs and into the common room. Everyone was talking rather excitedly here as well and I suppose it was no revelation that gossip spreads like wildfire throughout the school - even in the enemies' camp so to speak. However, I didn't want to hear any distorted recounts of Harry's doing. I wanted to see it for myself. I put away my bag in my room and then slipped back out of the common room and made my way back up to the Transfiguration classroom. My feet pounded onto the seemingly never-ending staircases as I raced upstairs.

It was eerily quiet as I started down the corridor leading to the Transfiguration classroom. There was no one around ahead of me and I looked behind my shoulder to see if there were signs of anyone else about. The skin prickled on my arms as my shallow footsteps echoed dully on the stone floor. I neared the room and saw the door ajar. There was a strange warmth in the air and an unsettling ball of something akin to fear coiled inside my stomach. The atmosphere was thick and muggy as if an intense tropical rainstorm had just passed. The air humid, hot and disturbed. My heart pattered faster as I crept up to the door and pushed it further open and took a look inside the Transfiguration classroom.

I wasn't sure what I expected to see but it was certainly not what greeted my eyes. The first thing that struck me instantly was the smell. It was a strong smell of burning. An acrid smell that stung the inside of your nostrils. I squeezed my eyes shut as they watered slightly and then peeled them open to gawp at the visuals in front of me. Standing no more than four feet away inside the room was Dumbledore, Flitwick and Knightly. All three were standing side by side with fierce looks of concentration on their faces as they chanted a spell I didn't know in unison. Their arms were outstretched with their wands pointing ahead as were their eyes. If they knew I was standing in the doorframe, they did not acknowledge my presence.

I followed their gazes and felt my stomach dip. The wall looked as if something large, something like a giant bludger, had smashed its way through; creating a hole that was large enough for an adult man to crawl through. The shattered pieces of stone were crumbling like sand around the hole and onto the floor. Not only that but the hole had been seemingly blown out by intense heat as there were large scorch marks around the edges leaving black charcoaled stains on the surrounding grey stone, hence the smell in the room.

Flickers of golden light were now being emitted from the ends of the pointed wands. The shining streams speeding towards the wall and into the hole and onto the next room. I pulled out of the threshold and hurried to the next room along. There was the same hole duplicated in the wall on the opposite end. I rushed down the corridor as the spell gathered in force flinging the various doors of the classrooms wide open into the hallway. My eyes flew past the rooms and I could see that two classrooms had the same hole blasted through the walls. At last I came to the fourth classroom and walked in taking a deep breath as I spied an innocent looking object lying on the floor. Amongst the broken bits of walls was a simple white vase.

Kneeling down I grasped it in my hands and stood back up, now standing in front of the wall and facing a cavernous hole. Through it I could see all the way past the makeshift funnels. It almost looked like an odd telescope with grey broken edges, and right at the far end I could see the outlines of the men still standing in the Transfiguration classroom. I didn't move for a moment and a second later the air around me suddenly reacted violently, like a small hurricane sweeping past me. I watched in amazement as the compounds of air turned solid and into a small vortex and flew into the hole and to the next room. I wasn't quite sure what was happening but a fraction of a second later it became quite clear.

I know there are many ways in which time is pushed back and forward and also know that there is a delicate balance that has to be kept within the continuum. My astonished eyes witnessed the fragments of stone gathering up and fixing themselves back into the blasted hole. The gaping space began to close up and the cracked stones on the floor rose and back into their original place in the walls. I backed out of the room, still clutching the slim vase in my hands. Each classroom I passed now was fixing the damage in the same way I had just seen. The holes were closing up like a set of domino's falling backwards rather than forwards. Logically the last room to be repaired would be the Transfiguration classroom. I skidded to a halt in front of it as I came face to face with Professor Snape, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. His dark eyes pierced at me and I stared back.

'Did Harry do this?' I demanded in a low whisper and he gazed back at me frostily.

'It would appear so.'

'Is he all right?' I asked quickly, my eyes flickering into the Transfiguration classroom. Dumbledore and the others were still finishing off the spell.

'Yes he is fine and don't you be so foolhardy as to try and see him. I've told you he is fine so take my word for it.'

I swallowed and took in a deep breath and then looked back into the class and shook my head in helpless frustration. Sighing I held out the vase to Professor Snape and he took it without saying a word.

'That's what I found on the other side,' I offered.

Professor Snape nodded. 'He was supposed to be transfiguring a vase into a raven. But following instructions isn't exactly his forte now is it?' he said in a tight voice and I clenched my teeth to stop from retaliating.

I snapped my mouth shut and was about to walk away when from the corner of my eye I saw Knightly turn his head and look in my direction. His odd eyes scanned my face in a suspended moment and I frowned at him before moving away and out of his gaze.

* * *

It happened to be the next evening when I was walking past the fifth floor when I heard footsteps down the hallway and decided to take a look. I imagined finding a short person scurrying off in the other direction but found Harry instead. 

He was about halfway down the corridor standing opposite a wall. I tilted my head to get a clearer view and realised that it wasn't a wall - Harry was standing opposite a door. He looked as if he were contemplating on whether to open the door or not. Making up his mind whether to go in or not. I quickly recognised the room to be the same one Harry had used to conduct the DA meetings in the fifth year. I walked towards Harry purposefully, not caring if Harry saw me but not making large amounts of noise so as to startle him.

But before I could reach him, Harry stuck out his hand, opened the door and walked into the room. I cursed out loud and sped up down the long corridor and then found myself faced with a closed door in front of me. I knocked on it and then leant against it to see if I could hear anything inside the room. I couldn't. I looked up and down the corridor. It was dark and deserted - there was no one around.

I knocked again louder and then tried the handle but it wouldn't open. What the hell was Harry doing inside? He was alone, and this room was vacant as far as I knew. I rapped my knuckles against it harder and waited for a reply or a response. Nothing. I could call out but did not want to attract any unwanted attention. Most likely Peeves would hear me and cause chaos. I supposed I could wait as I knew I couldn't walk away without seeing Harry coming back out of the room. It was going against my so called ''rules'' if I hung around for Harry; but all rules crumbled to dust the minute I felt worried about my dark-haired destructive person. I slid down onto the floor, my arse sitting uncomfortably on the cold, stone floor.

Ten minutes passed and Harry still hadn't come out. I would give him a further five minutes and if he didn't come out by then I would go and find Dumbledore and tell him what was happening. I didn't care if Harry got in trouble, though I doubt he would - but I wanted to make sure that he was safe and sound. Having him told off was a small price to pay for his safety.

Thankfully only a few minutes passed when I saw the handle turn and the door open. I got to my feet and brushed off my numbed backside as Harry walked out with his shoulders slumped, his head lowered in a dejected manner.

'Harry?' I said, my voice sounding concerned. He looked back at me with oddly bright eyes and I felt my skin break out in a cold sweat. 'What's going on?' I asked worriedly.

Harry instantly and visibly collected himself and straightened his shoulders, masking his face to make it devoid of all emotion. 'Nothing....'

My brows shot up 'what were you _doing_ in there?' I repeated pointedly.

'_Nothing_,' Harry said once again, shutting the door behind him.

'You can't have been doing _nothing_…you must have been doing _something_,' I insisted sharply, trying to look through the closed door futilely.

Harry shook his head shortly and began to move away. His quietness was grating at me and I wanted to shake him till he had a reaction to something I could hold onto. My eyes fell to his wand that he was holding by his side and I glared at him.

'Open the door,' I said firmly, not believing Harry's attempt in normalcy. But instead of opening the door, Harry moved aside quietly without any protest much to my surprise. My uneasiness with this surreal situation grew as I grasped the handle and flung the door wide open.

I entered the room.

And it was empty… with black walls… just plain black, wide walls. Four of them. A box of closed in walls. Empty. There was nothing else in it. I walked inside, my footsteps echoing against the bare surroundings. I turned about in the unoccupied room in confusion and my eyes narrowed as I gazed at Harry apprehensively. He was standing quietly with his eyes flickering around the room.

'It's empty… so what were you doing in here?' My words held more bite and cut across my tongue and out to him.

'I told you, nothing…' Harry said and his eyes looked away from my face as he answered. _Fuck, he was lying. What the hell was he lying about?_

'What's going on, Harry?' I tried to soften my tone, hoping I could coax him into telling me as I neared him.

Harry shrugged. 'I just wanted to see something and ... you're right… it's empty…'

I sighed, aggravated with him and myself. 'You're not going to tell me then, is that it?'

'There's nothing to tell,' Harry said, stepping back out of the room. 'It's all right, let's just go back…'

He indicated his head down the corridor and I exhaled heavily and looked at Harry cautiously before following him into the hallway. I hated this. Not being able to push past his exterior. It was maddening and all together very unpleasant. I wanted to ask him what had happened the other day. What had made him lose control during the class? If I could help. What was he thinking…so many questions and no answers.

We walked quietly to the end of the corridor and hesitated slightly at the parting of ways. Harry took the first step towards the staircase that led him up to the top floors. He gripped the banister and turned his head to face me. 'Goodnight,' he said softly, his eyes directly lancing through me. I did not bid him goodnight but instead watched as he walked up the stairs with a foreboding heart.

* * *

It was very late. Past midnight and I was walking back towards the room again. The hallways were deserted and very cold. I reached the room that Harry and I had entered a few hours earlier and turned the handle. Taking in a deep breath as if I was about to sink under water - I stepped inside. The second I stepped in, I did a double take for I was sure that I had entered the wrong room. This was most definitely _not_ the room I had seen previously. It was totally a new setting, much larger and different. I looked back at the open door and frowned. How could this have been? I had never come here before and my curiosity won out as I tentatively walked in further. 

The room was rectangular in shape though I could see that a few more feet further ahead the ground gave way into a large pit sloping downwards. There were steep stairs that descended into the centre of the pit, with rows of circular benches along it - like an ancient Greece amphitheatre. The tiers were falling below in a round structure finally reaching ground level on which there was a small stone dais and an odd archway that had no walls on either of side of it. Just an archway in the centre of the dais. I felt an immediate chill as I peered below for I was not alone in this strange room.

Harry was here. He was standing in front of the arch which had a black veil attached to it. The veil was undulating gently as if from a soft wind brushing through it.

'Harry?' I called out from above, my voice resonating around the stone construction. But he appeared to not have heard me.

I decisively walked forward and began to climb down the jagged steps.

'Harry,' I called out again. He was just standing there looking at the black curtain. As if he was transfixed. He was still wearing his uniform, his own cloak fluttering behind him like the veil. He suddenly snapped his head up sharply and looked at me as I neared him.

'Draco, 'he said looking slightly panicked. 'Please you shouldn't be here. Please go….' he said. His eyes were glimmering brightly behind the thin glass and his cheeks were flushed. He looked upset and for the life of me I couldn't understand what this room was doing here in Hogwarts or what its purpose was. More to the point what the hell was Harry doing here?

'No,' I retorted, tripping past the last few steps to the ground. 'What's going on?' I persisted as I reached his side and his head lowered for a second before he looked at me again. A rain of emotions passed across his face ending with a quiet contemplative look in his eyes. He turned his gaze fixedly at the veil again; his whole body tense as if he was waiting for something to happen.

'I just need to do something, Draco, and I'd rather be alone…' he sighed and I could see his teeth bite at his lower lip, reddening and hurting it.

'What do you need to do alone?' I demanded. 'I'm here all right and whatever you think you need to do - I'm staying for it.'

Harry looked at me helplessly, 'no you don't understand, you…_can't_ be here,' he stressed.

I reached for his arm and couldn't shake the disturbing feeling of dread as Harry carried on staring at the odd curtain that seemed to fly open further and further as if the wind was heightening behind it.

'Please, Harry, come away from here and tell me what the hell is going on,' my voice was low and urgent and I grabbed his arm harder, making sure I had a solid hold on him so he couldn't escape me.

'Draco…' he said my name again, now with a heart breaking plea and I couldn't understand what he was trying to say. What did he want to do? 'Please,' he said softly, just standing there with his arm gripped by my fingers, with his eyes looking tired and sad. 'Just turn around and go back upstairs and you can tell them that you didn't see me, that you didn't know…'

I could taste the bitter taste of fear on my tongue and I knew instantly that whatever he was asking me for was as terrible if not worse than what I had already been through all these past months.

'It would be so easy, Draco,' Harry whispered and stared at the black veil wistfully as if it was the answer to all of his problems. And the way he was looking at the arch, with so much want and hunger it could only mean one thing…

I felt horror and panic spear though me, my chest writhing into a painful knot. I grabbed him with curled fingers and turned him viciously to face me.

'What the hell are you talking about? I yelled. 'What the fuck is that _thing_?' I knew my fingers were digging into his arms painfully, I knew my voice was shattering against his face, but I had to make him see sense. How loud did my voice have to be for it to be heard by him? Although he wasn't trying to fight me, his face looked at me with a crestfallen look of someone whose plan has been foiled and now they were desperate to get away - to run and be free…did he imagine that if I let him go he would be free? Free in ways that I would never let him be. I would never stand back and let him go. I was never going to let him go.

'You're coming back upstairs with me, and we're going to talk about this,' I said firmly and started to tug at him, but he held his ground and didn't move an inch.

'No, Draco,' Harry wrenched his arm back. 'Look if you're not going to go away then just let me…'

I looked intently into the green eyes that were suddenly so open and alight. My hands travelled up and cupped Harry's face anxiously and I almost thought that for a second Harry leaned his face towards my touch, into my palms. His eyes closed momentarily and then opened to beseech me with requests that I would never fulfil. I felt my throat ache

'Please,' Harry whispered, 'you could just say it was an accident… you didn't know and I just ran into it… they won't blame you. It wasn't your fault; just say it was an accident…'

My lips were dry and, as desolate as my life had been these last few months and just when I thought my nightmares might start to elude me, I was being shown what the end of my life would be like if I let Harry go. 'No way, Harry,' I tangled my hands into Harry's cloak, clutching and holding him for dear life. 'There is no way…Harry.'

'Draco....' he said in desperate voice,' please leave, just go… you can pretend you didn't even see me…'

'Harry,' I shouted, '_SHUT UP!_ Just shut up. I am not….' My eyes suddenly filled with frantic tears and my voice caught at the back of my throat. I suddenly couldn't speak and I held him that much harder conveying what my words could not. 'I am not….' I struggled against my suppressed voice.

I was never going to let him leave and walk away from me - no matter how much he wanted to. The sheer weight of not being able to help him was killing me - after all the tears and pain I was not going to let him…leave. His green eyes glittered at me in captivating agony. My fingers relaxed and we stared at each other. The enormity of what was happening was just starting to hit me and I felt too dizzy and weak to move and all I could do was be hypnotised by his face looking at me.

In the next moment there was the horrific instant where he suddenly broke away from me and time seemed to slow down as he turned his head back at me and he whispered, 'look away, Draco, please…' and my fingers were no longer holding him. He stepped back towards the veil and I felt like my life was draining away as I tried to reach out to him - but he was slipping away…the ground was shaking under my feet and all I could do was let the tears slip down my face and stare at his beautiful face as he backed away from me further and further and into the veil.

'NO,' I screamed, helpless and broken and grief stricken.

The room was starting to shift and the floor gave way. And I was falling - frantically trying to grab Harry's hand... and falling. And failing to reach him. It was dark. And black. And hot.

And then my eyes opened.

I was sweating and clammy and feeling more panicked than I had ever before. I gasped, still caught up in my nightmare - it was so hard to distinguish my nightmares from actual reality that my mind couldn't grasp that I was in my bed in the Slytherin quarters and not in a room watching Harry walk to his death. I was quickly seized with fresh daggers of dread and threw back my bed sheets. I didn't know what had just happened but knew that I had to get to Harry somehow. I had to make sure he was all right. I couldn't ever take the risk again…I stumbled against the pitch black of the bedroom and ran awkwardly to the doorway, racing down the corridor in my bare feet. Not caring if they stubbed on the stone doorframes, not caring about anything other than making sure Harry was all right.

I walked blindly in the dark and found myself grazing past the hidden wall and out into the corridors of the dungeons. I shivered with fear and cold as I ran to Professor Snape's chambers. My breath was coming in short pants as I rapped my knuckles loudly on my housemaster's door.

I knocked again louder and then started to bang on it with my fists.

'What in Merlin's name!' said a voice as the door flew open and I stumbled back at the sudden loss of contact against my hands.

I rushed into Professor Snape's room, barely glancing at him, 'please I have to check on him,' I babbled. It was still so dark, but he had lit one of his candles and his face was eerie and glowing a blackened orange.

The door was shut behind me and I felt Professor Snape's robes whip across my legs.

'What on earth are you talking about, Draco?'

I took in a deep breath, 'please there is no time, I have to check up on him,' and before I could stop myself I started to sob in terror and I fell forward and grabbed the older man's arms. 'Please,' I cried, 'I have to go and look and see if he is all right…'

Dark eyes pounded down on my face and thin lips pinched, 'Draco, I really have had _enough _of this,' he muttered.

'_No_,' I said vehemently, 'this isn't….'

'You will NOT be going anywhere Draco.'

'But….' I argued, trying to make him understand the urgency of what was happening. 'Well then _you_ go and look and see if he - is - all right. Now - you have to. Please. I just keep getting images of him falling into that black curtain.'

'_What_?' Professor Snape asked swiftly.

'In my nightmare,' I answered, letting go of his arms. I took in a few deep breaths and wiped my face. I knew I looked a right state and wretched and even my seemingly hardhearted teacher hadn't turned me away thus far.

'Stay here,' my teacher snapped at me, his eyes narrowing into thin slits. 'And don't you _DARE_ move from this room,' he said in a disgusted voice and saw I his shadow move back and creep across the wall towards his fireplace. His hands reached for some floo powder and he mumbled McGonagall's name before the fluorescent green embers swallowed him as he stepped into the tall grate.

I stood shivering with a damp face and clammy bedclothes stuck uncomfortably to my skin. The single flame danced from the chill in the room and I sniffed and tried to breathe a little more easily as I stumbled over to the sofa and sat down. I stared at the fireplace with my hands clasped together in my lap. And waited.

All sorts of images were relaying in my mind. What if what I had seen had been true somehow and Harry _had _gone into that room and walked into the archway? My gut instinct told me that the archway signified death and Harry was standing on the fine line of worlds in between. How ridiculous is it to love someone so much yet not being able to help them in any significant way? Not being able to make their life any better or easier - and all you did was watch helplessly as they spiralled into oblivion. How is that possible? Surely if you love someone so much you can stop them from wanting to die, can't you? Because if you couldn't then what the point of it all? What good were you, what was your worth if you couldn't keep those you loved alive?

And then overwhelming grief overtook me again as I thought of losing Harry again. I wouldn't be able to bear it, I knew it. I would die if anything happened to him. I couldn't carry on - my sobs were grazing my throat and felt so sick and exhausted. I begged for my life to get better soon, I pleaded to whoever could hear me to give Harry his life back. To let us both live again. I had to be selfish because if I didn't cry for us and worry about us and fix us, then who would? A few minutes later I tried to calm myself and looked around the room. I could see the moonlight through the sliver of windows high up on the walls. It shone murkily over the water that swept around the walls of the dungeons.

Harry.

I sat numb and frozen when the fireplace glowed green and I saw Professor Snape materialise in the flames. I immediately shot to my feet and towards him.

'Well?' I demanded without delay, 'how is he? Where is he?'

'Potter is fine. Quite safe and sound tucked away in his bed,' Professor Snape said in an irritated voice. 'Now step back, Draco, and give me some room.'

Relief poured over me and I swayed from the sheer rush of adrenalin coursing through me.

'_Draco_,' the voice snapped again and I shook my head and stepped back from the grate, letting Professor Snape step out from the flames. He came out brushing away the soot from his shoulders. His eyes were glaring at me malevolently and his thin lips twisted up with a cruel curl of antipathy.

'I had to make sure he was safe and well,' I said defensively.

'Yes, of course you did, as you have been quite prone to hysterics and melodrama of recent,' my potions master taunted. He ran a hand through his long hair and stared at me as if trying to assess how appalling he was finding me right now.

'Did you see him or umm…' I trailed off sitting back on the sofa.

'Yes, I am quite sure you can imagine me bounding through the Gryffindor tower in my night robes,' he said, his tone acerbic.

I remained quiet and he snarled adding, 'don't be so ridiculous. Professor McGonagall went and awoke him. I was told he was rather surprised to be shaken awake to make sure he was still _breathing_.'

'Well,' I said, 'it was better to make sure…'

'Make sure what?' Professor Snape spun around at me and towered over me ominously. 'Because you had a bad dream you felt the need to cause a scene, a mini drama before you fell back to sleep?'

'That's not what happened,' I shot back angrily. 'I'm sorry if my _feelings_ are inconveniencing you but I didn't know where else to go, you were the first person I thought could help me.' I dropped my head to my knees. 'I had a very bad dream and when I woke up I had to make sure that….It has happened before. I've had bad feelings and not understood them and I couldn't take another risk like that…not with Harry. I can't….' felt my eyes sting again and swallowed heavily.

'But he is all right?' I bit my lip and tried to reign in the tears. I drew in a shaky breath. I knew I would be ashamed later on, crying in front of Professor Snape but my relief was so great I couldn't stop.

'Yes,' came a gentler voice. 'He is fine, Draco. He is as well as can be.' I looked up gratefully and Professor Snape considered me for a moment. He then sighed loudly and walked away from me.

The next moment I felt a blanket drop over me, 'go to sleep, Draco.'

I sniffed and gaped in surprise at the act of uncharacteristic kindness. I clutched the blanket around my chest and drew my knees up on the sofa, basking under the soft warmth. Suddenly I felt the sofa under me expand and dropped onto my back with a bump.

'Drink this and then get some rest,' I was presented with a small vial and took it from thin fingers. I downed it in one go and then slumped back on the sofa-transfigured bed.

'Thank you, for seeing if he was all right. It means a lot to me - really. Thank you,' I said sincerely and Professor Snape grunted derisively and then nodded simply, his face hard and stern. His shadow swayed on the ceiling as he moved away.

I got comfortable and felt the room become warmer as I watched Professor Snape walk away towards his bedroom. He seemed to hesitate at the doorframe and then, leaving the bedroom door open, he disappeared from sight. I smiled slightly at the display of softness being portrayed by my otherwise unsympathetic housemaster. I sighed and finally reassured myself that it was all right to sleep. Harry was fine. And I could sleep.

Soundly for tonight.

TBC…

* * *

**P.S I think the reason this chapter was so hard to write was because in a sense it is the 'ending' of a large portion of The Hermit and the next chapter will be the beginning of the next phase. The tide will be turning soon and I will shine some well earned light- promise. Thank you for still reading and for all your support by sticking with the story and letting me know that you do. _I hope you like this chapter somewhat.... :o Eeek if you don't and some squeaks of angst. _**

**Thank you to**: iceprincesshime, gina87, Dimiaiel, Fiona, HHRLVR, BlackFox, Tora88- **For Reviewing The Chariot.**

**Thanks to:** SeparatriX, Robin the bird, RainSW6, Moonglow-girl, AbundantFear, iceprincesshime, Robin the bird, Alora, ms, Jade Quinn, shola, riantlykalopsic, Rzzs, Bad-Azz-Slytherin, shadow, cherrylips, holly, Neo, Maxine, Mitzee, C. Night, Walker, Dekko, Gollum, Dragenphly, Mak Felton, firestarburst, TonksLovesTheClash, Mynamo, Godlovesme, Tobi, coolio, Jean, gina87, Blehnema, Lyra Skywalker, onthesidelines, volleypickle16, BlackFox, CherrieTrees – **For Reviewing The Hermit!**

**THANK YOU SO MUCH for those of you who reviewed Yorkshire Puddings! :o) I am so glad you enjoyed it!! It was fun writing it. And thanks to those of you who reviewed With A Kiss.**

**It means so much whenever you say a kind word to my stories- they appreciate it and blush shyly. As do I. xxxx Karina**


	15. The Quietest Shade of Black

**Disclaimer: Miss Rowling who continues to write and own rights to the fabulous world of Harry Potter gets all the warm glowies for her marvellous imagination.**

**Thank you to my Coffeecat who puts up with my whining and griping. Well I finally did it… are you proud? A little. It's been a long time coming. xxx**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen – The Quietest Shade of Black**

'Get up, Potter,' came the voice of a revolted Snape.

Harry was currently on his knees panting with shallow breaths. He dropped his head to the ground and closed his eyes tightly, trying to focus on the task at hand. It was his second lesson of Occlumency since the new term had started and he was failing dismally. Dumbledore and Remus had spoken with him once school had started and suggested a few lessons just to see if his shielding techniques were still working. He didn't know if they were - but he had told them that he hadn't had any visions of Voldemort so perhaps they were - somehow.

Remus had looked anxious and said that maybe it would be a good thing just to see…so here he was. _Just seeing._ He was in the dungeons with the potions master who looked ready to strangle him with his bare hands if given the permission. Snape had wandered into Harry's mind far too easily the previous lesson and this lesson seemed to be verging up the same road.

'Come on, Potter,' Snape barked. He looked so angry and Harry could feel his rage coming off of him in waves. He could barely stand to be civil to Harry today; and, at every little thing Harry did wrong, Snape bit his head off in frustration. 'We don't have all day,' he spat out pacing near his desk.

Harry took a deep breath and stood up, throwing back his shoulders ready for another painful attempt.

'You're not focusing,' Snape told him holding his wand at the ready once more. 'You haven't focused on anything since this lesson started. If you're just going to keep standing there and letting me wander into your mind, then we might as well give everyone an invitation to your thoughts as you don't seem to care much for shielding them.'

'I am trying,' Harry replied tiredly.

'No, you're not,' Snape insisted, 'I've taken walks into your mind like I would in a park. You are not shielding at all. One would think that you can't be bothered.'

Harry's lip curled. Snape taking a walk in a park? _Yeah right._ Harry could not imagine that at all. This detestable, bitter old man wasn't capable of appreciating a walk in the park.

Harry tried to loosen his muscles in his shoulders and calm his racing heart. Snape had just seen a repeat of the alleyway nightmare and Harry had tried his best to throw him off before Snape saw Harry turn the corner to face his attacker. He managed to at the last second but he was feeling weak and tired and had let a mixture of images run through his mind for Snape to see.

'Now,' the potions master said, his nostrils flaring out in an irritated manner. 'Clear your mind completely. Listen to the sound of your breath as you inhale and exhale. Take in a deep breath and let it out slowly like you did before.'

Harry stared ahead of him at the pale face that was giving out the orders. He breathed in and out as he looked fixedly at the tall man with the shoulder-length hair. The cross looking brows, the hooked nose; angular shoulders that were covered in black robes that fell to the ground, revealing slight glimpses of black shiny shoes. The rigid pose, the long wand held at the side by bony fingers. And all the while he was breathing and tried to feel calmer, make his mind go blank.

'_Leglimens_,' Snape said sharply and Harry felt a prick in his forehead and fought against the worm-like spell that was trying to invade his mind. He grit his teeth and strained his eyes as he focused with as much force as he could.

He saw Snape's wand jerk in his hands and he was succeeding in throwing off the spell….nearly…he could feel his muscles bunch up again and he was trying to shield….

And then it broke and the slithering spell forced itself in his mind and he could do nothing but let his mind betray him. He felt the pain sting behind his eyes and the roaring sound of his blood rushing in his ears. There was a distant cry but it was too late. He was back in the alley and back against the wall. And the sword was shining in the rain-spattered sky...

'_Potter! Stop_,' came a harsh plea but Harry couldn't. The sword was being driven into him and he fell backwards and moaned softly with the ghostly pain.

'_Potter!_' Snape screamed at him and Harry cracked open his eyes. Snape was white and shaking. His hair was plastered against his sweaty face and he looked enraged. 'I had to stop the spell before you put us both in hospital. You have to try harder! Now get up!'

Harry was lying on his back at this moment and gingerly sat himself up.

'Get up, Potter, and try again.'

But he couldn't. He wouldn't. He licked his lips and wiped his face with the palm of his hand. He slowly shook his head. 'No,' he said softly.

'No?' Snape said incredulously. 'What do you mean ''no''?' He marched forward, pushing his hair off his face. 'You will get up and we will try again. You have half an hour left of this lesson.'

Harry shook his head again, 'no, I won't.'

Snape gnashed his teeth together, his cheeks sinking in giving his face a pinched look.

'Fine. I can't work with you like this anyway.' He put down his wand with a dull thump onto his desk. 'You're going to turn me insane sooner or later by the way you are going. So fine, I will not do this till you sort yourself out. You will do breathing exercises every day before you sleep and we will pick up the lessons again next month to see if your condition has improved.'

Harry looked up at him silently. He swallowed and found his mouth horribly dry. He nodded now and got up onto his feet. He quietly tucked his wand into his pocket. The dungeon was drafty and he could feel the cold air rise from the stone floor around his ankles. He was shaking slightly and accepted a glass of water that was thrust into his face.

'Drink it before you leave.'

Harry drank thirstily and then handed the empty glass back to Snape.

'I will have a word with Professor Dumbledore about what to do with you.'

Harry met the dark eyes that were looking at him so resentfully, 'do with me?' Sensing a familiar _déjà vu, _Harry looked out through hollow eyes

'Yes,' Snape hissed. 'What to do with _you_.' He glared at Harry a moment longer and then snarled. 'Oh get out. Just get out,' and he waved his hand towards the door.

Harry let out a deep breath and did just that.

* * *

He made his way towards breakfast, acknowledging the glaring fact that the mere prospect of having lessons with Snape before breakfast was nauseating. Utterly nauseating. It was scant consolation that it was the beginning of the day and perhaps he could take some small comfort in that. Or he could just face the fact that any day where he had to look at Snape's face in the morning was going to be rotten. Though today had started off worse than usual and it was only going to get even more dreadful. It was Halloween.

Harry had woken up with a leaden feeling in his stomach and just knew that it was going to be a horrible day. It had felt off the second he had woken up and already his morning had been ruined. He walked the halls taking in all the strange looks that were being thrown his way since term had started. He was used to being stared at by now and, for the most part, had learnt to ignore it - but nowadays the looks cast his way had a mixture of something else mingled in them. Sometimes there would just be long stares and lots of whispering, sometimes he would receive smiles from people he had never spoken to and sometimes the looks would be full of hostility. But most times he averted his eyes low so that he wouldn't have to see anyone looking at him.

Nonetheless, people were always looking at him. He could never get away from them. He wished that he could spend his days wrapped up in his cloak and never have anyone speak to him - never have anyone see him. He wished he were dead. And he wasn't.

He made it to the breakfast table and glanced at Hermione. She smiled at him and asked him how the lesson went. He always replied with the same answer, ''it was fine''. Ron merely nodded but did not say anything to indicate that he wanted to start up a conversation. Things still hadn't been resolved with Ron and, though they were being civil to one another, Harry could sense Ron's anger towards him. He wondered how he could make Ron understand that not re-joining the Quidditch team was not a personal insult to him. It had nothing to do with Ron being the Captain and Harry not helping him win the cup. Harry had hardly played Quidditch these past few months and, when he had come back to school, he just didn't feel like taking up the Seeker position again. He didn't want to join in and play and fly - he didn't want to be a part of anything. And he didn't want to pretend.

It was better that he was honest and told Ron that he wasn't coming back to the team. He had told McGonagall the day he had arrived back at school and she hadn't pressed him. He was sure that she was still under the impression that he had not physically recuperated from his injuries and perhaps didn't want to push himself too much. He knew Ron thought he was just being difficult and tenacious. He knew that all the Gryffindors were disappointed in him; and all he wanted to do was to be left alone and not feel guilty for something he didn't want to be doing in the first place.

He sighed and ate his breakfast quickly, leaving as the owls swept in with various parcels and mail. He slipped out and then went round to the side of the greenhouses and sat down on one of the benches. He enjoyed the sound of silence a lot. It was comforting and heavy around his ears and if you listened carefully enough you could almost _hear_ the silence.

He wondered if you listened hard enough was it possible to hear a single raindrop fall on the grass? And in fact if silence could be solidified, what would it look like? And what about time? How it propelled you forward leaving you no choice but to move along with it. See now, if he had stayed dead, he wouldn't have to be dealing with all this time business and living out his pathetic life.

Voldemort had offered him death and he had taken it. He had wanted to die but even that he hadn't been able to manage. They hadn't let him die. They brought him back to life just so he could die again. So the next time he died, he would have died twice by then and that didn't seem to bother anyone apparently; it only bothered Harry. He would have to wait until Voldemort decided to kill him again. And then he would try and kill Voldemort only to be killed at his hands _again_.

His thoughts then led him to Dumbledore. The elderly wizard called him into his office about once a week to ''check in'' with him but Harry wasn't sure what he was expected to say or do. He couldn't tell Dumbledore half the things that were plaguing him and some percentage of those thoughts were being cast bitterly against Dumbledore himself. He was sure that the wizard just wanted to have him live so he could lure Voldemort and then kill Voldemort with some dumb luck and consequentially die himself. He could bet that they wouldn't care if he died after Voldemort was dead because his job here would be done.

He thought back to his first year, his second year, his fourth year, his fifth. It was always too easy for him to be able to gain access to Voldemort and he knew exactly who was allowing him that access. Dumbledore. And then just in the nick of time something always saved Harry - Dumbledore's omni presence always _just _saved him. However, this time when he had died, Dumbledore hadn't saved him and Harry had _died_ - he was sure of it. And then he had been dragged back to live again and for what? He had been so thankfully close to sinking into the velvety blackness and the white but they had kept his blood-filled body alive and didn't let him die. He wasn't allowed to die. So many others died and yet even he, with such a death-inducing curse, wasn't allowed to die. His parents had died, Sirius had died and so many other good people died. Yet, Harry hadn't been allowed.

He wished he had died that night with his parents. At least that way he would have been with them. Or he wished that they were alive today to be here with him. How different his life would have been with a mother and a father. To know what it felt like to have a mother hold you in her arms, to comfort you. What it felt like to talk to your father and share a life with him. What it felt like to have parents that cared about you and no matter if you screwed up a little; they would still love you. They wouldn't discard you if you made a mistake and toss you off to one side. What it felt like to have parents that would stick by him when things went bad and _still_ stay by his side. To not be scared of doing the wrong thing in case the people you rely on push you away and stop caring about you. What it would feel like not to be so damn lonely.

And today his parents had been killed sixteen years before – 31st October. They had died and ceased to exist; and yet here it was sixteen years later, just another day on the calendar.

* * *

Lunch time approached and Harry had half a mind not to go, but not going would ensure questions and more looks and whispers so he relented and sat through lunch. He had felt as if he was in some separate universe - detached from everyone. He could see and hear what was going on but was not a part of any of it. His mind kept wandering to thoughts such as where were his parents buried? Did they even have graves? Had they been laid in a coffin or cremated? And these thoughts plagued him for the rest of the day.

Then that evening came the Halloween feast and he had never felt less like attending a feast. He sat there staring blankly at his pumpkin juice. Ron was talking to him and he replied, while Hermione looked concerned and he tried to ignore her. Ginny was brushing something away from over his head…. and Lavender Brown placed a string of ivy leaves on his head as she weaved about the Gryffindor table handing out her home-made efforts to get into the Halloween spirit. All the while Harry silently tried to keep swallowing and breathing and sitting.

He glanced at Seamus and out of the blue remembered Seamus jumping to his mother's defence in the fifth year when he thought Harry had been having a go at her. How his mother had been worried about him and how Seamus had sent her a copy of the Quibbler and how he could talk… to his mother. That she was still present. He looked at Ron and thought of Mr and Mrs Weasley. Hermione and her parents and Dean and his parents and ….

Suddenly his eyes fell to Neville and he pictured the Longbottoms. Part of him cried out that at least Neville could see and visit his parents. At least he could talk to them… and then another part of him gave the conflicting opinion that wouldn't it almost be easier on Neville if they had died. Died and were at peace so Neville could mourn them rather than them being the way they were. He caught a flash of hair that belonged to Susan Bones and, through his dazed stupor, realised that he had heard that her aunt had been killed. He could almost bet that there would be students in this hall who were going to lose their mums and dads at the hands of Voldemort.

Suddenly he felt the stabbing guilt that somehow he should be stopping Voldemort in some way. Stop him completely so there would be no more deaths by this monster's hand. Tumultuous thoughts such as these were making his head hurt - he had a headache, he could feel it. Was he selfish to be feeling this way and mourning his parents so many years after they had been killed? Was he selfish to want some memories of them so he had something to hold onto? Was it selfish to feel sorry for your circumstances and wish that life had been different? Another time, another place. Harry closed his eyes briefly and tried to push away the chaos in his mind.

Quite suddenly there was a flurry of commotion and brown owls flew overhead. Students looked up in surprise as newspapers were dropped onto the tables. Harry caught sight of the headline of the Daily Prophet. It was a special evening addition for Halloween it would seem. Harry looked back at his meal not taking any interest in the headlines. Bantering chatter followed and Harry was lost in his thoughts when a few minutes later, he was all too abruptly aware that the loud voices and tinkling of cutlery seemed to lessen.

Harry snapped out of his trance to find eyes staring at him and he quickly caught Hermione's eyes. She was holding the newspaper in her hand, crumpling it into her fingers as if to stop the words from leaking out. Harry slowly looked about him. There were heads ducked over the papers and Dumbledore was asking everyone to carry on with the feast. A few hesitant scrapes of chairs and false chatter carried on over the uncomfortable silence. Hermione was gazing at him worriedly and Ron was giving him an odd smile.

Hermione finally nudged the paper at him and whispered to him, 'Harry, maybe you should see this….'

Harry took the offered paper into his hands and ran his eyes over the front page:

"_Where is the Wizarding World's saviour?... Today notes a landmark day for the magical world but it is also well known as the date He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was vanquished sixteen years ago. ……………… He is back in our midst and we all need another miracle to save this world from ruin……May our miracle be in the form of one very powerful boy, The Chosen One, who will conquer the evil he has faced many times over. Let the strength of your brave, departed parents be united in you, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and we ask of you to help rid us of this darkness…..''_

There was much more to be read but Harry's eyes swam and blurred till the words poured into water coloured vision.

Seamus' clear voice rang out across the table and he was smiling and holding his goblet out. 'Hear, hear. Let's make a toast to Harry. The Chosen One.' And several of the Gryffindors smiled at him around the table and raised their goblets. Harry felt his eyes mist and for a sickening moment visualised his housemates wearing dark suits, their faces a ghoulish green. They were proposing a toast to his parent's death. It was a wake - a macabre wake and they were celebrating his parent's death. He clenched his teeth till the tension in his jaw ached. He couldn't think straight and he was feeling dirty and horrible and….

'Harry, you all right mate?' Ron was asking in a concerned voice. Harry nodded with great effort and felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

'Just ignore it, Harry.' Hermione looked worried. 'They will always print stuff like that about you. Don't get upset over it…..'

'I'm not upset,' Harry said quickly, trying to focus his eyes on the plate in front of him. He breathed out slowly and now met anxious eyes around the table.

'It's okay,' he said, trying to infuse a degree of normality into his voice. 'Thanks, its fine.'

The faces at his table tried to return assuring smiles towards him and they all went back to their meals while Harry stared vacantly at his plate again. His eyes were burning and he didn't want to be sitting here for a moment longer. How long could he wait till it would seem all right to leave the table? How long did he have to sit here till he could leave without questions being asked? His head was pounding with the effort of not crying out loud. He couldn't help feeling like he couldn't breathe and it was all so wrong and no one knew… and this wasn't right…none of it.

Five minutes later he could stand it no longer and pushed away his plate and said, 'I think I'm going to go to the dorms and sleep. I feel really tired.' He forced himself to appear ''normal''.

'You want me to come with you, Harry?' Ron offered and Harry looked at him – his troubled eyes, the frown upon his forehead.

'No, Ron,' he cleared his throat. 'I'm all right. I just want to…… everyone will be looking and whispering and I think I want to sit quietly for a while or something. I'll be fine on my own – honest.' He pushed back his chair and got up – eyes following his every movement. 'I'll see you all in the morning,' he said and turned around, trying not to feel the stares as they witnessed his departure.

* * *

Meanwhile there was another pair of eyes that had witnessed Harry's departure. Grey eyes that had minutes earlier read the paper and witnessed the toast – and teeth that had bitten down hard on a tongue just begging to let out a maddened scream. He watched Harry try and walk out calmly but could see the strain in the shoulders - the tension in his gait. He was hurting. Even though Harry was trying to appear as if he wasn't, Draco could instantly tell by his posture that Harry wanted to get the hell away from this room as fast as he could.

Draco felt his chest hurt and his heart tug and he couldn't sit at the table a second longer. He immediately did a spell from beneath his cloak as he touched his wand in his pocket. A flame shot out to the nearest person at the next table and, as the targeted person's cloak caught on fire, Draco sipped his water nonchalantly. The smoke started to billow out from under the table and a few shrieks followed with alarmed gasps. Heads craned to see what the fuss was all about and Draco took the given opportunity and quickly slipped away from his table and from the hall. Hopefully unnoticed, he went rushing to be by Harry's side.

He instinctively raced up the stairs feeling troubled and worried. He thought he had seen Harry's figure disappear in the distance far above his head and imagined that he must be heading for Gryffindor tower. Draco's chest was constricting as his feet barely skimmed the steps in his hurry. A few minutes later, panting he reached the seventh floor and stopped for a second catching his breath in painful gasps. He had never run so fast up the stairs and it was quite a feat. He finally blew out a long breath and cleared his throat as he walked quickly down the corridor in search of Harry.

It didn't take Draco long to find him. At the end of the corridor a few feet away from the entrance of the Gryffindor common room, sat Harry - a crumpled figure doubled over. Draco swallowed thickly, feeling panic lodge in his throat. He quietly walked towards Harry not wanting to alarm him.

As he got closer, he could see Harry take in shallow gasps, his shoulders rising up and down alongside his bowed head.

'Harry?' Draco said softly, as he approached. He dropped to his knees, his brows knitting together in concern. 'Harry?' he said again in a low voice.

Harry shook his head, a small imperceptible movement. '_I don't want to be here_,' he whispered and Draco felt a sympathetic jab deep in his gut. '_I don't want to be here,_' he said again louder, his shoulders shaking and Draco watched him frozen in anguish.

'_I don't want to be here_,' he gasped then and Draco felt his vision blur as Harry started to take in shuddering breaths. 'I just…' he said hoarsely.

'Harry…' Draco reached out a tentative hand towards him, resting it on his shoulder and Harry pulled away. Draco's hand faltered and then he reached out again and Harry pushed it away fiercely leaving a trace of wet tears on Draco's skin. His shoulders seemed to cave in then and he lowered his head further. Draco could see the effort he was making to not sob out loud. He was trying to not cry and it wasn't working. He looked like he was in so much pain and Draco felt as if his heart might explode. He watched a few tears fall from Harry's face and onto his lap. A shaking hand furiously wiped them away and Draco felt his heart skip a beat and immediately leant forward and pulled Harry into his arms. He was not going to let go; he would not be pushed away no matter how much Harry struggled futilely against him for a few seconds.

He held on firmly, his fingers gripping Harry tightly around his back as he pulled him closer. Harry then began to sob heartbreakingly and all Draco could do was hold him as he wept. Stroke his hair as the sorrow poured out of him. He heard Harry take in an uneven breath and in a rough voice say, 'I can't….' he was trying to explain what he was feeling and Draco hardly dared to breathe in fear of stopping Harry's words.

'I don't want to be here,' he repeated again and Draco closed his eyes tightly against the knowledge that Harry truly didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be alive. He didn't want to live.

'I'm tired,' a small voice confessed against his neck and Draco felt the love rise inside him as he cradled Harry to him, stroking over his hair and down his back.

'I would end it if I could, if I thought that it wouldn't make a difference,' Harry said softly his body shaking with grief. 'But I can't….I stop and think that if I did that then what would happen? What would everyone think and I'm the only one who can kill him and, if I die before I even try, then I've doomed everyone so I have to live….. I have to…. but I just don't…' and fresh sobs tore from his throat and Draco finally understood the enormity that had been placed on Harry's shoulders. Unwanted responsibility placed on someone so young, someone who was buckling under the pressure.

'I feel so alone,' Harry wept and Draco felt his own tears fill his eyes. 'I don't want to be…..' Harry's body shook with the force of his emotion and Draco held him near, silently trying to indicate that he wasn't alone, that he, Draco, was right here with him.

Harry took in a deep breath, his damp cheeks pressed on Draco's shoulder. 'I wonder what it would be like…' he said in a whispered voice. 'Just to see, just once, what it would be like to have parents…. I just want to know…just for a minute…' and Draco felt himself wince in sympathy. 'I never even tried to get to know Sirius… and he's dead and I never…..' he choked out. 'I never had the chance to say how much I wanted to care for him. How I wanted to make him happy and he died and it was all my fault.'

Draco rocked him and crooned. 'No, it wasn't your fault, it wasn't your fault….it wasn't…don't ever think that…..Sirius would never think that. He would never blame you. He loved you - I know he did,' Draco said without hesitation. 'They all loved you so much…'

'I can't stop thinking about them….' Harry wept, 'they all died and I'm still here. I had a mum, I had a dad and I'll never know them, I'll never get to speak to them, never get to hold them. They will never know me and they are the closest people to me yet I can't ever be with them. I can't even die….now…I'm always going to be alone. I don't have anyone…..I just don't… I'm alone….'

'_Harry_...' Draco felt his throat constrict as Harry sobbed. 'You're not alone…you're not alone...I'm here. I promise you, I'm here for you. Always here for you. I'm here. Always. I swear.'

Harry sobs intensified and he clung to Draco as Draco held him and let him cry.

Many minutes passed as Draco listened to Harry cry and wondered if this was the first time Harry had cried. All the pent up emotion of the past few months, perhaps even years and Harry had never let himself cry. Draco was so thankful that he had chased after Harry and found him. Thank God he had done something right. His love had led him to Harry and he would forever be grateful to his heart.

A while later, Harry started to quiet down and Draco held onto him steadfastly. He leant back a little and peered down to receive a brush of short, black, silky hair against his skin. He rested his chin on top of Harry's head and rubbed Harry's arms trying to comfort him. He felt Harry shuffle slightly and pulled back a fraction to see green, bloodshot eyes.

'All right?' he asked his own voice thick with tears. Harry looked up at him with wet eyes and shook his head. He gripped Harry tighter against him, stroking the back of his neck.

'You don't have to be all right now, but I swear it will get better, Harry…it will,' he said determinedly. 'It will get better I know it.' He looked down the corridor and quickly thought of what to do next. 'Harry...let me take you to your room okay? Let's go inside….'

Harry sniffed and Draco moved back and wiped his tears from his cheeks gently. He squeezed Harry's shoulders, 'okay?'

Harry nodded his eyes glazed and red. He looked overcome and Draco got to his knees and drew Harry up with him. He walked up to the portrait with Harry and the Fat Lady glanced at them with an unsure look. She had witnessed everything and Draco sighed and just looked at her.

'Harry, what's the password?' Harry sniffed again and swallowed before he spoke.

'Fallen….whims…' he said and the portrait swung open and let them in without any comments.

Draco quickly glanced around the Gryffindor common room. It was very different to the Slytherin room, all red and gold.

'Let's go to your room okay?' he said to Harry, not taking in the furnishings any further. Harry nodded passively in response. Everyone was still at the feast so technically there shouldn't be anyone here - no one to see them together – not that he cared all that much right now; he wasn't going to leave Harry's side tonight. He followed Harry closely upstairs to the boys sleeping dormitories. Moments later he found himself in a large, round room with five beds.

He reached for Harry's elbow, 'which one is your bed?' he asked. Harry walked over to it and then sat down on the mattress looking down at his feet.

'Let's get you into bed, shall we?' Draco suggested and Harry carried on looking at the floor. 'I'm going to take off your shoes,' Draco said and Harry suddenly looked at him with an unreadable expression. Draco averted his eyes and bent down to slip off Harry's shoes. He then stood up and touched Harry's cloak in silent request. Harry shrugged it off quietly and Draco silently toed off his own shoes and took off his cloak. He felt Harry's eyes on him as he pulled back the covers to Harry's bed.

He appealed to Harry with a raised blanket and Harry slipped into bed without any remark. Draco took out his wand and then got up on the bed to draw the thick curtains around it. He whispered a quick spell around their sanctuary and then pulled the blanket further and slipped in alongside Harry. Harry didn't tense up at the feel of Draco's body against his and Draco was thankful. He was half afraid that Harry might protest at sharing a bed with him but he still looked so broken and numb that he probably didn't have enough energy to object - though Draco liked to think that Harry trusted him - trusted him enough to cry in his arms and be held by him. He smoothly slipped his arms under Harry's head and drew him up against his chest. A few seconds later he felt Harry's hand grip his waist and then the warmth of hot tears. He held Harry tighter as Harry silently cried into Draco's heart.

* * *

Harry had finally fallen asleep in an exhausted slumber on Draco's chest about one o' clock in the morning, but Draco found that his eyes wouldn't close. Sleep wouldn't come to him at all. He lay, with his hands smoothing over Harry's back, his lips pressed against the top of Harry's head. Harry had sighed a few times in his sleep and snuggled closer to Draco and Draco could feel the love well up inside him as he tucked the blanket around Harry's shoulders and then carried on staring up at the darkness. Weasley and the others had come into the room a few hours ago. Draco had heard them wondering aloud if they should check on Harry but Draco had made sure that he had dimmed Harry's bed light and hoped that Weasley would assume that Harry was asleep. Thankfully that was what they thought and Weasley had whispered that he would talk to Harry in the morning and no more was said as the other four night lights were dimmed. Draco had cast a silencing charm around the bed and another one that would signal Draco if anyone approached the curtains surrounding them.

He held Harry tighter, running a gentle thumb up and down Harry's arm. He had never seen Harry so defeated and it had frightened him - all he wanted to do was alleviate Harry's pain and hold onto him for dear life. He wanted Harry to believe in him - to trust him. To let him in again. He could heal Harry - he would do everything in his power to help Harry. And, even in all the misery, he felt his heart lift at the thought of Harry in his arms once again. He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice; he wasn't going to let Harry go. This time he wouldn't stand aside. All this waiting around and playing about – enough was enough. There were so many things he wanted to discuss with Harry – so much he wanted to make up for. So much he needed to know. And it was going to start now. He brushed his cheek over Harry's soft hair and closed his eyes taking in the smell and feel of it.

* * *

A few hours later he felt a hand tighten around his shoulder and he awoke sleepily. He instantly felt Harry in his arms and tightened them around him. The hand on his shoulder moved again and he felt Harry stir. He waited as Harry shuffled his head that was still resting on Draco's chest, and peered up at him in the dusky hours.

'Hello,' Draco whispered softly and Harry lifted his head higher looking down at Draco with a slightly confused expression.

'It's still really early,' Draco whispered again. 'Why don't you go back to sleep and we can talk in a few more hours, ok? I'm not going anywhere. We can just go back to sleep.'

Harry swallowed sleepily and Draco could see his eyes drooping. He was still in the ''sleep zone'' and if he closed his eyes again he would be asleep in a few minutes. Endearingly, Harry lowered his head back on Draco's chest without dispute and fell back to sleep. Draco smiled tenderly and pressed his lips into Harry's hair in a kiss that wasn't quite a kiss. A kiss disguised. A kiss waiting to happen. And it would eventually. Meanwhile, Draco was here to be alongside Harry. Here in every way he could. His fingers slowly caressed Harry's head softly and Draco sighed contentedly before he fell back to sleep himself.

* * *

Morning came too soon and Draco was acutely aware that he was in the Gryffindor dorms. He wondered how he was going to slip out of there unnoticed… he turned his head to look at the clock, his chin brushing over Harry's still sleeping head. It was seven and the others would wake very soon. Not thinking, he ran his left hand gently up and down Harry's back again and Harry sighed softly and then started to stir. His eyes opened at once and Draco was presented with blank green eyes peering at him in a bewildered manner.

'Morning,' he said in a low voice and Harry lifted his head higher, taking in the way he was laying on top of Draco. He frowned slightly and Draco kept silent, waiting for Harry to recall the events that had led them to this state. He could tell instantly when Harry had remembered, because he immediately lowered his eyes and started to prop himself up.

'It's ok…' Draco said softly. 'Don't….' he began and Harry shook his head.

'I'm sorry…' he started and Draco shook his head in protest. 'Yeah I am…I shouldn't have…' He looked to the side of the curtains, not meeting Draco's eyes. 'I don't know what happened….but I shouldn't have... err.'

'No, stop that ok?' Draco said firmly. He gripped Harry's arm, 'you have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing to be embarrassed about, nothing to be ashamed about. If anything I should feel bad, for not coming to you sooner. I should have known how things were with you...and I didn't…' He rushed on as it looked like Harry was about to interrupt him. 'I'm glad I was there last night, ok? I'm really glad I was there and you let me be there.'

Harry finally met his eyes hesitantly and Draco smiled up at him. He tentatively reached a hand behind Harry's neck, just gently letting it rest there, his fingers barely caressing the nape. Had it been any other situation, Draco would have leaned up and kissed Harry full on the lips, but it seemed rather inappropriate to do that, so he didn't. He cleared his throat instead and waited for Harry to speak again.

'Ok….' He said, 'umm, thanks….'

Draco merely nodded and they stared at one another silently. Draco wished he could, once again, read Harry's expression, but he couldn't.

'I just…. I had a bad day that's all…' Harry let out a deep breath and Draco nodded again. 'And all this time… I…' Harry continued and Draco kept silent, grateful that Harry was opening up to him and scared that if he stepped a foot wrong, Harry would clam up again. 'I just felt so weird…there's just so much and, umm,' he sighed then. ' I thought that if I had died that night then obviously I wouldn't be here now and well a part of me wished that I had...y'know, died.'

Draco chewed his bottom lip as he listened. Harry remembered that night, everything about it – Draco was sure. He looked into Harry's eyes fixedly, his hand now dropping to Harry's shoulder.

'Well, I'm very glad that you didn't die that night, Harry.' Harry wordlessly looked down at Draco. 'I wish I…but…anyway…' he gave a crooked smile. 'You lived, Harry, you didn't die and so now you live. And you're not alone at all. I'm always here for you…' he faltered as Harry lowered his eyes again. 'And Weasley and Granger and all your Gryff friends… they all… you have people that care about you a lot. Don't just give up. Let people in, let them help you. Everyone needs something, someone, sometimes. You just need to realise that there are things for you to live for.'

Harry wet his lips, and met Draco's eyes again. He shifted his weight slightly off Draco, moving to the side, though not completely out of Draco's arms.

'I guess when you think about things too much, they seem worse or something and... .' Harry shrugged one shoulder.

'You _can_ talk to me…about anything,' Draco said sincerely and Harry gave him an off-centred smile as if he wasn't quite sure of Draco's intentions. But then the look on his face softened and he said, 'Thanks,' simply.

Draco sighed and then twisted his head as an alarm went off in the room.

Harry pushed himself up in a half-sitting position. 'You can take my cloak… use it.'

'I'll give it back to you later,' Draco finished and Harry nodded in confirmation. He got up from the bed and slunk out of his curtains. Draco listened to him shuffle around as he laid back his head on the pillow.

'Here,' Harry said, slipping back into their shelter. Draco sat up and took the filmy cloak from Harry's hand. 'Thanks. I'll you know...'

'That's fine,' Harry said in a low voice. Draco swung his legs over the bed and Harry watched him quietly. 'Thanks again,' he whispered and Draco nodded as he slipped on the cloak. Harry led him outside the room, down into the common room and out of the Gryffindor tower.

* * *

The day passed oddly and quickly and slowly and by dinner time, Draco was sat on the far side of the Slytherin table. Harry's cloak was tucked away in his bag, which was slung on the back of his chair. He could see Harry's back from here and he inwardly sighed in frustration at Harry's posture. His head was bent low, shoulders hunched. Draco hated the thought of the morning's small breakthrough being rendered completely worthless because he could not communicate with Harry as freely as he would like. Show his support as freely as he would like. Maybe he could attempt to talk to Weasley and Granger…. He lifted a wry brow; what would he say?

_Harry had a meltdown and we had a chat. He wished he was dead and I said I was glad he wasn't and yeah that's about it...but if you could just try and lend Harry a hand, get him to talk, or get him involved, get him to do something except mope around – yeah that would be good._

He chewed his food thoughtfully. What could he do? He was sick of being such a non-entity in Harry's life because, in spite of many things, he had something with Harry still. Harry had talked to him and let Draco in. That was important. It was of value. Draco could be a friend that much was obvious to him now. If nothing else at present, he could be a friend to Harry. Only that would involve more sneaking around which was tiresome but worth it. Harry slumped lower in his chair and Draco sat there looking pissed. What _could _he do?

And then, in a moment of clarity, he wiped his mouth. His heart started to race and he took in a few deep breaths. What he was proposing to do was insane and, if he let himself think about it for even a few more seconds, he would back out. He would change his mind. So instead he raised his head and moved his chair back. His heart was somersaulting uneasily and for a moment he thought he might faint, or keel over.

'Draco… you finished already?'

But Draco didn't answer. He stood up and squared his shoulders and then, keeping his eyes on Harry's back, he started to walk ahead. His mind suddenly went back a few months when he had toyed with this exact idea for a fraction of a moment. But he hadn't been able to do it then. He hadn't been ready. _But now he was_. He wasn't drawing any attention for a short beat of time as the entrance to the hall was in his path. He was very aware of breathing now, and feeling giddy and very uncomfortable things happening in his chest, or stomach, or somewhere in his torso. What was he doing? Oh shit - this was social suicide…or suicide... yes definitely bad, wrong even. Just terrible, but he purposefully kept walking. Past two tables and towards the Gryffindor table. The complete silence was swift and Draco felt his feet freeze and glue themselves on the ground as he became aware that it was too late to back out now. It was too late to just stroll back to his table. He had walked too far for it not to mean anything - it had to have meant something. A Slytherin walking over to the Gryffindor table. Oh my lord, he thought feeling sick and the air seemed tiny and non-existent.

He wasn't sure if this had been the longest or shortest walk of his life - but decided it had definitely been the most significant walk of his life as he now stood behind Harry – in front of a hundred mouths on the floor and shocked gazes.

He cleared his throat as Weasley looked at him with his jaw hung open and a horrified expression on his face. Granger looked the same. Shit, they all looked like that. Harry's head was still hunching over his bloody plate when thankfully he became aware that ''something'' had just happened and in a delayed fashion – had heard Draco clear his throat all too loudly. His head snapped up and he looked to his side, at his table and then he too realised that everyone was staring at something. His head whipped upwards and to his side and his mouth immediately opened, his face stunned. He gawped at Draco like a fish and Draco thought he was going to fall over. He kept on looking down at Harry because he was sure that if he looked elsewhere, he would forget to breathe or be struck down – either one.

'What...um?' Harry stuttered and Draco let out a shaky breath.

'I was wondering,' he said, his voice falsely sure of itself. 'If you had room for one more?' There he had said it. It was lame but it was something. And Harry had better do something quickly… Draco thought desperately.

'Yeah,' Harry said almost breathlessly, his eyes blinking rapidly and his hands fumbling to move the plates about. He looked at some nameless Gryffindor next to him urgently who was staring at them staggered. However, something must have registered as the boy actually got up and moved over. Draco thumped down into the empty space gratefully. Harry shifted a plate in front of him. Everything was so silent, it was horrible and the clatter of the plate resounded loudly in his ears. Please someone talk, Draco pleaded silently. Harry gave him a strained smile and Draco felt dizzy with relief. Harry was smiling. Things had to be a little better surely…

The longest minute in the world came next and then finally Granger said, 'here's a goblet.' And Draco took it; sure his fingers were shaking so badly they wouldn't be able to grasp the thing.

'Please resume with your meal,' Dumbledore's voice boomed out and voices started to break through the mortified silence. Draco had never been so grateful to hear the old wizard's voice. He reached out for a piece of chicken, for a piece of anything, just so he could do something. Harry was still looking at him with a gob smacked expression and Draco met his eyes. He was quickly greeted with a hesitant but sweet smile that instantly lifted the enormity of what he had just done - a little lighter.

A few minutes later, with hundred of eyes watching him, watching Harry, watching them, Draco put down his fork. His left hand was resting on his knee when he slowly crept it towards Harry. His fingers bumped Harry's leg and Harry looked at him and then under the table. Draco turned his hand palm upwards in a proffered invitation. He blocked out everyone else and looked at Harry with a carefully composed look, though he was feeling anything but composed. Harry looked down at his half-eaten plate and then Draco felt his hand twitch nearer and then finally into Draco's hand. Draco squeezed Harry's hand for a fleeting second - that second acknowledging everything that had been and could be in the future.

And, though no words had been spoken as yet, it was the first step towards them being united. Being together. Here and now.

**

* * *

****Karina saying: **

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	16. How I Love Thee

**Disclaimer: Miss JK Rowling wrote Harry Potter and gets all the credit for creating her universe. **

**Thank you to my Beta Coffeecat – who put this disjointed chapter together. **

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen - How I love thee**

_Continued from Chapter Fifteen (literally) …_

So okay, I am sat here at the Gryffindor table and I can safely say that this has been the most excruciating, terrifying but exhilarating non-meal of my life. Non-meal because it was hard to summon up any kind of appetite whilst having a hundred eyes fixed upon me. I couldn't chew and then attempt to swallow with the whole hall staring at me. At Harry. At us. Literally. I looked at Harry's plate and found that he also had his half eaten plate still set in front of him.

I could feel the mixture of pure outrage, shock and venom being thrown at my back and it was a good thing that I was turned away from my house table. I couldn't even begin to imagine what their faces looked like. But I guess, if the Gryffindor faces were anything to go by, it was pretty bad and I should probably be ready for my execution as soon as I stepped foot out of the Great Hall.

I looked at Harry and he looked back at me and, actually, the more I stared at him the more I felt better about my impulsive decision of waltzing over to his table. There were worse situations to be in… Saying that, Weasley had worn a look of sheer disbelief throughout dinner. I just knew that he was thinking; ''how the fuck did Malfoy have the audacity to come up to the table and sit down?'' Worse still act like a ''friend'' to Harry? When clearly I was no 'friend' of Harry's if I correctly remembered our conversation, which had taken place a few months ago.

Perhaps I had changed my mind - maybe I wanted to be a friend to Harry… for now. If that is all I could be at this moment then I could try and be a _friend_. I could. At first. It's what Harry needed. I knew I could not perform miracles over night and there was a lot going on in Harry's head that would take me some considerable time to become privy to. But slow was better than hasty. Earning his trust and companionship was better than snogging him senseless and having him run a mile in the other direction. I snuck a sideways glance towards the staff table. There was a look of complete and utter disapproval from my housemaster, who looked liked he may want to skin me alive – literally. Masked astonishment from McGonagall and a calm but amused expression from Dumbledore.

Harry and I sat at the table for as long as we possibly could. I didn't look about me much in case I inflicted some premature damage to myself before even walking out of this room; however, soon it became apparent that we could not sit here for all eternity. We had to get up from the table eventually. Granger was pulling Weasley up from his place, as he seemed too stunned by my presence to function properly. The she-weasel murmured something unintelligible to Harry but at least she was moving away from him and that was always good. Bitch. Soon, it was only the two of us left at the upper part of the Gryffindor table and I found that my legs would not cooperate.

'I can't move,' I said to Harry in a low tone.

As the Gryffindors reluctantly started to leave the dinner table, mutterings of ''what the heck is Malfoy doing?'' were heard and soon I found myself relatively alone with Harry. I was grateful he was there as I genuinely began to wonder if I would ever leave my seat.

'I _seriously_ can't move,' I repeated and Harry looked at me with a mixture of concern and compassion, which was both comforting and peculiar. 'I don't want to leave this seat ever,' I repeated for the third time and Harry nodded solemnly.

'So we should just sleep here tonight,' he deadpanned and I looked at his face catching a hint of amusement lurking in green eyes. I felt my mouth twitch at the absurdity of wanting to be glued to the seat for the rest of my life. I felt a spark of hysteria rise in my throat and chuckled a little. Harry grinned at me and we both laughed breathlessly for a moment.

'You're something else, you know that?' Harry said and I thought I could almost mistake it for an admiring tone.

'Yes, well,' I said primly, 'I just sort of committed social suicide – so, yes, I agree I am something else all right.'

Harry's face turned serious then and he said firmly, 'I can't even begin to say what you coming and sitting here means to me…' he cleared his throat and I felt my heart leap happily, knowing that it actually meant something to Harry.

'Well, as long as you don't abandon me on this seat, everything will be fine,' I said lightly and Harry gave me a small smile.

'Want to get out of here?' Harry asked and I let out a long breath and nodded. I didn't look anywhere but at Harry as I got to my feet. I couldn't look at my house table. I didn't want to see the expressions on Vince and Greg's faces. I couldn't think about that right now as I followed Harry outside into the Entrance Hall and then walked ahead of him to the front door. Technically, we were to remain indoors once it got dark, but being outside right now was the only thing that made sense to me. Being outside alone with Harry. Away from everyone. Harry didn't object to it either; so a minute later we found ourselves walking to a nearby bench.

We sat silently for a moment and I couldn't stop thinking of what was going to happen to me once I got back to my common room. I turned to look at Harry and his profile looked remarkably peaceful as his head was tilted upwards towards the dark sky.

'I like white,' he suddenly said.

'White?' I said feeling a little perplexed. 'As in the colour white?'

'Yeah,' Harry said thoughtfully. 'And I guess it isn't exactly a colour but I think the fact that it _lacks_ colour is what makes it so pure. It's soothing, maybe in a cool way but it's clean and like clouds or something…' he shrugged then and caught me looking at him in surprise. 'I just like white a lot.'

I followed the odd conversation further. 'So that's your favourite colour?'

Harry chortled softly and I kept my voice low and gentle, as anything he revealed to me was a good thing.

'Not many people say white is their favourite colour do they? It's anti-colour. They just think that it's there to be mixed with or lighten. Or for mental people in padded rooms. But it's pure,' he said again...'It's the purest colour of all. It's very bright and…pretty. I like white a lot.'

I smiled fondly at him and tilted my face up to the sky. 'Stars are whitish…silver…'

'Yeah,' Harry said in a hushed tone. 'And it's quiet here,' he continued. 'Its better,' he ended softly and I felt my gut wrench. He said the darndest things sometimes that made me want to squeeze him and hold him and never let go. I wish I could give him all the white in the world if that is what brought him peace. Well, as long as white didn't mean death – which, thinking about it, made sense considering Harry's thoughts and feelings. But hopefully I could turn Harry's white into something real and certain, having more to do with living life than ending it. But I didn't squeeze him or hold him. I just let my shoulder graze his and sat there with him. Just sitting.

And we did.

For an hour.

* * *

A few days later, Harry and I were sitting in the corner of the library. I have a new found respect for the library. The library is a good place to sit because _apparently_ you weren't supposed to talk in the library. And if anyone tried to raise their voice, then Pince would come brandishing her wand at said speaker. If one continued to piss her off, she threw you out of the library. So yes, the library was a good place for me to be - with Harry. 

We had come to the library after lessons every day for the last two days. People could look all they wanted but _apparently you weren't supposed to talk in the library._ I sniggered as a few offended Hufflepuff eyes averted away once I caught them staring at me. At Harry. At us. It was nice to think of us as an ''us''even if Harry wasn't thinking of _us_ like that – though I wasn't too sure what Harry was thinking about the two of us – but, see, us still signified me and him. Him and me.

As I sat scribbling, I could clearly recall the scene that met my eyes when I walked into the Slytherin common room two days ago. The shocked and devastated gazes that looked upon me. My ''friends'' were wordless in their disgust and I didn't know what to say to them. I had walked right past Vincent and Greg, away from Pansy and Millicent. Away from everyone and carried on walking to my room. I heard footsteps behind me and knew, even without looking back, who they belonged to.

The second I had walked half way into the room, Blaise spat out angrily, 'what the _fuck_ do you think you are doing? What are you playing at, Draco? Because, please, I'm having a really hard time excusing what you did tonight!'

I had spun around and felt myself grow angry at her tone, 'what if I told you that it's none of your business, Blaise.'

'Well, that isn't good enough, Draco. You don't get to say that I should mind my own business. Not when you go and do something like that! This affects us ALL. Even you can't be _that_ self-absorbed.'

Self-absorbed? Why did people make out that being self-absorbed was a bad thing? It meant that you were looking out for yourself by putting your needs first rather than anyone else's. And, at that moment, being self-absorbed for my sake and Harry's was the best thing I had done in a while. So I stood with my arms folded against my chest, giving Blaise a scathing look.

'You have to explain,' she continued to rant and my mind ticked over quickly. What if I told Blaise once and for all…and she would no doubt relay the information in some mild fashion amongst everybody in the house and it would save me from repeating…. Confiding in Blaise might not be a bad idea, I thought.

'Ok,' I said, putting my hands up. 'Let's talk, but you just have to shut the fuck up and let me talk and not say a word till I'm finished all right?'

She looked as if she might protest but I gave her a cutting stare which she matched and then huffed loudly and then said, 'fine, ok, but it had _better_ be good.'

I kept myself from retaliating that I really didn't give a crap what she thought but instead took a deep breath.

'You remember the night Potter got attacked in the alley?' I asked.

She nodded.

'Well…' I said and sat down on my bed facing her as she sat on Vince's bed. '_I_ was the one to find Potter in the alley.'

Her mouth opened in shock.

'I don't know how much of that night you remember but I went to town a little after most of you had gone down. I went into the pub to meet Vince and Greg and I looked around for…..' my brain quickly concocted a few fibs, 'Malcolm when I saw some odd lights against the door window. The door that leads into the alley. I didn't know what it was but,' I shrugged, 'something just made me walk towards it and I did. When I came outside I could hear something and just instinctively walked towards the noises. When I err….'

I took another deep breath and tried to detach myself from what I was about to tell Blaise. 'When I came around the corner I saw, umm, him. He was….I mean he had a sword and it was all the way in…Potter. Potter was against the wall, he was pinned against the wall by the sword. And well I heard _him _say that he wanted a witness and it happened to be me. And then he Disapparated and Potter fell to the ground.'

Blaise looked at me with obvious horror.

'I had to get help, Blaise.' I continued. 'I had to,' I shook my head. 'I called out for help and was holding Potter on my lap. There was all this blood and he was dying, Blaise. He was dying in my arms.' I looked at her and saw her eyes soften for me. 'Help came and they portkeyed Potter along with me to the hospital. They kept me there for questioning and I tried to find out what had happened to him.' I gulped now, and hoped that Blaise was finding my tale utterly convincing. I had to tell it in a way that she would believe.

'I could hear the Healers talking and Professor Snape was there and Dumbledore. They said that Potter had been cursed and how terrible the curse was. Professor Snape then saw me and thought that I should go to school but, umm, I guess I was in shock or something cos then Professor Snape thought to owl my mother and have me stay with her for the night. So, umm, I went home that night and came back to school the next day.'

Blaise nodded and her brows knit together in a concentrated frown.

'Anyway,' I carried on. 'Since that day something in me snapped, Potter became like this regular boy who had just nearly died in my arms. He seemed so human and just not the Potter that I had imagined and hated all these years. He had been through this trauma and I had seen it for myself, with my own eyes and just something in me changed, Blaise. I couldn't hate him anymore. It was like he and I had shared something and I couldn't relate it to anyone but him. When he got back to school, I saw him sometimes, I saw him on the first night he was back and asked how he was coping. And after that we talked a few times. Obviously I couldn't tell anyone what had happened.' I swallowed heavily and then shrugged, 'you caught me one time when I had seen Potter in the Owlery.'

Blaise acknowledged that with another small nod.

'We just talked sometimes and over the summer he sent me a letter to say he was all right. We're not friends exactly I know that. And I know what you might be thinking about my dad and everything. But last night I could tell it was getting really bad for him and had to see if he was ok. We ended up talking all night and well today I thought there was no point in hiding the friendship we might begin to have at some point. I was just tired of sneaking about and lying to you guys. So I took the plunge and went and sat next to him. It doesn't mean I like Weasley or Granger or any of the Gryffindors. They mean nothing to me. I still hate them – that won't change. But Potter, he's different. We have stuff in common and I think we can be friends. But it doesn't mean for a second that I have turned my back against the Slytherins or anything like that, Blaise. I just want to live my life how I want.'

Blaise sighed and wet her lips, 'Professor Snape came and saw us and said we weren't allowed to give you any grief as in hex or torture you.' She snickered. 'He said that he wouldn't condone any violence against a fellow Slytherin.'

'Wow,' I laughed breathlessly, 'that's something I guess.'

I tried to read her reaction to all I had told her and decided to say a little more.

'Things have just been really difficult and I'm worried about my mother and my father and people are dying and I want things to go back to how they were before, before he was back, Blaise.' I got up and went over to the window, turning away from her. 'If Potter is the one to vanquish the Dark Lord then I have to say, I won't be standing in his way.'

Blaise walked up to me, her lips drawn in a thin line, 'I don't know, Draco. I wouldn't go round saying that if I were you. Some of the kids have parents that have dedicated their whole lives to the service of the Dark Lord. They won't take too kindly if you tell them that you are friends with Potter now and hope he kills the person that their parents have worked for most of their lives.'

'Yeah,' I said. 'But I'm in exactly the same boat they are. My parents served him and I just think their lives were better when he wasn't around. I can't help thinking that.' I faltered for a moment and then said, 'do you wish I hadn't told you?'

She cupped my cheek and said softly, 'no, I'm glad you told me. It sure explains a lot of what's been going on with you.'

I smiled at her genuinely and marvelled on how easy it had been to talk to her. She continued to surprise me.

However, that night as I lay there, aware as ever that for the first time in all the years I had been at Hogwarts, Greg and Vince hadn't said a word to me since they had come into the room. I started to feel anxious. I got worried and scared, laying there in the dark and realising that I had alienated myself from my friends and housemates. And what I had done probably didn't just affect myself and Harry – Blaise had been right, it did affect a lot of people. And I hated that. I didn't want to affect anyone; I didn't want to care about anyone. I wanted to be completely selfish and just think of my own concerns and Harry's but unfortunately life just doesn't work that way. Actions had consequences, life was a ripple affect. And I guess I also realised that it wouldn't be too long till my mother heard about what I had done.

So that first night, I slept fitfully and woke up to silent glares and voiceless animosity. I made a show of not caring and held my head high as I walked through the common room but, as soon as I was out of sight, my heart started to thump uncomfortably. I wasn't used to not being liked by my housemates. I wasn't used to not being popular.

As I walked ahead, I heard echoes of footsteps behind me. I didn't think anything of it till suddenly I felt myself thrown forwards onto my face. I quickly swerved my head around to see what had happened only to see Theodore standing over me.

'What do you want?' I spat out as I lifted myself up.

'You've got some nerve, Malfoy,' he said as he watched me stand up, his eyes manic and his wand held tightly in his hand as he pointed it at me.

'I have, have I?' I sniped back, my fingers ghosting over my wand in my pocket.

'Where the hell do you get off?' he said advancing nearer.

'Get off?' I couldn't help but be sarcastic. 'I haven't got off anywhere, I'm right here, Theo.'

And with that I turned back and started to walk down the corridor. At first I thought he had given up his brief pursuit and had gone back, but, as soon as I reached the top of the stairs and stepped out into the hallway, I felt a sudden burning sensation.

I yelped out loud, as my right leg seemed to have caught on fire and angrily turned back to see Theodore holding his wand out at me just at the opening of the door.

'What did you do?' I ground out, clutching my leg.

'Nothing, you don't deserve,' he said coming further up.

I couldn't move, I was in agony. I gasped and tried to get a hold of myself, trying to think straight and grab my wand. But just then, I saw a rush of light pass me and knock Theodore back and tumbling down the stairs. My eyes instantly looked over my shoulder and I saw Harry standing right behind me.

'All right?' he said casually and I couldn't help but smile, in spite of the molten heat in my leg.

'I will be,' I replied.

'You sure?' he asked earnestly, his green eyes looking concerned.

'Yes, I'm sure,' I said sincerely, my fears dissipating quickly, the pain momentarily forgotten. We heard a muffled cry and a dull thump indicating that Theodore had landed at the bottom of the steps.

'Let's get you to Pomfrey, hey?' Harry began to say and I shook my head.

'No, umm, tell you what, let me go to Professor Snape, I think he is still downstairs. He might be able to give me something.'

Harry looked sceptical, 'you think he will help you?'

I nodded, 'Yeah. He hates me right now but I still think he will.'

'Okay,' Harry peered down the steep stairs for a moment, 'um, I'm gonna grab some breakfast for us.'

I looked at him, feeling oddly happy about what had just happened. 'All right, see you in a bit.'

As I went back down the stairs, I kept an eye out for Theodore who seemed to have scuttled away somewhere. I knocked sharply on Professor Snape's door and winced as the heat started to travel further down my leg. The door flew open with a gust of wind hitting my face, and I was greeted with the annoyed face of Professor Snape.

I briefly explained what had happened and earned no sympathy from my housemaster. I was sure he thought that I deserved everything I got right now, and to a certain extent he may have been right. However, he did help, by handing me a potion that quickly chased away the heat in my leg, leaving only a distant ache.

I didn't meet anyone on my way up and smirked at the thought of Theodore thinking I had hexed him crashing down the stairs. When I reached the Entrance Hall, Harry, as he had done once before, was sitting on the stairs.

He held out two paper bags and I grinned. That morning we had a picnic breakfast in the classroom that led off the hall. At lunch I went and sat at my table – alone. Theodore was steering clear of me but still giving me mutinous looks, which I returned. Harry had offered to come and sit with me but I had declined. This had been my choice and I had to deal with it.

* * *

'Okay, let's try again,' I said to Harry as he helped me back to my feet looking apologetic. 

'I'm really sorry,' he said and I shook my head.

'No, it's all right, just, umm, keep trying to control yourself and you know,' I cleared my throat. 'You're making progress,' I added encouragingly.

And he was. I had finally touched upon the subject of Harry and his recent upsurge of magic. He mumbled his way through it and said that since his magic had returned over summer, he had a little difficulty controlling it. It had been volatile at best, sending simple charmed objects flying through walls, catching on fire. All dangerous stuff basically. It had got to the point where he had refused point blank to take part in any practical magic demonstrations in class and so Knightly and McGonagall had insisted that he be given private tutorials by them. He had attended about four so far but he really needed to practice some more; and I was more than willing to help him.

I was pinning my hopes on the fact that he wouldn't want to intentionally hurt me and so would be extra careful and concentrate that much harder. And he had been rather good actually. This was only the second time he had picked me up off my feet when I was thrown flat on the floor. At least this time, we had the foresight to scatter cushions on the floor beforehand; otherwise I would have been sporting a much bruised arse.

Another half an hour later and Harry had managed to successfully float a cushion in the air without it exploding. It was the simple spells he seemed to have the most difficulty controlling. First-year spells no less.

'You did well,' I told him as he made a feather dance along the top of the blackboard in the empty classroom where we practiced.

He smiled at me and I grinned back. It was so nice to see him smile again. I think I had distracted him with my whole social suicide thing. I was keeping his mind busy. And that was good. I still hadn't brought up many of the questions I was longing to ask him but there was time enough for that. As far as I was concerned I had moved mountains with my bare hands over the last few days. A month ago, I could not have even imagined that Harry and I would be talking at such close range let alone spending time together in public. Or away from public. But together, nonetheless.

We both sat down side by side and Harry was gazing at his wand fixedly. I watched him quietly for a moment and then blurted out, 'How did you get those scars on your hand?'

'Mmm?' Harry looked up at me with a puzzled expression and I motioned towards his hand, the hand with those strange words carved upon it.

He didn't say anything for a moment, just dropped his eyes and then frowned slightly. Shaking his head, he answered, 'It's not important. Not a big deal.'

'Okay,' I said casually, 'but just tell me anyway. I'm curious.'

He shrugged indifferently then and said, 'Umbridge. She had me in detention for ages and gave me this quill to do lines. Only the lines weren't appearing on the paper – they were being etched on the back of my hand.'

I winced involuntarily and then let out a deep breath. Fuck.

'That's a shit thing to do,' I said, trying to keep my voice level.

'Yeah,' he agreed. I wish I were brave enough to reach out and hold his hand now but knew that I also wasn't stupid enough to do it at this present moment it time.

Harry nodded again and then took a deep breath.

'Draco….' He started and then sighed and continued. 'I think he's made me stronger…or I mean made my magic stronger unintentionally.'

I remained silent, as he confided in me. 'The reason I'm a parselmouth is because of him and just …I feel different since it happened. Since summer, like the magic in me is stronger. It's like he transferred some of his power into me without meaning to do it but it's there….. Does that make sense?' he looked at me then and I gazed into his bright eyes and nodded.

'Yeah, it does make sense. He used his own blood to make the sword, yes?' Harry nodded, 'and blood magic is very powerful.'

'But he thought that I would die from this,' Harry murmured. 'He didn't anticipate my getting stronger because of it….' Harry trailed off and I could see that he wasn't too comfortable thinking about it.

'No, I guess he didn't,' I said, 'but you should realise that your magical power isn't all due to him. He might have transferred some of it over to you but I reckon you have a tonne of raw magic that's all you,' I said forcefully. 'What you've inherited from your parents and their forefathers, and then something extra that makes up everyone's own unique brand of magic. So, don't let the thought that he has ….' I searched for the right word. I was about to say contaminated but didn't want to put words into Harry's mouth. 'Corrupted… your power in any way.'

'I guess,' Harry said and after a moment I elbowed him gently and he looked at me in surprise and then, taking me by surprise, he elbowed me back.

* * *

The next day, however, I woke up feeling glum. That was the only way I could describe the feeling. The second I woke up, Greg and Vince ignored me because they still hated me and now I wasn't sure if things would ever be the same between us. I wondered if I should insist on sitting them down and explaining a few things as I had done with Blaise. But they left the room before I managed to say anything. I never thought I would see the day where the two of them wouldn't speak to me. 

After dressing, I walked out into the common room and again no one spoke to me. I was a pariah and it really wasn't fun. I nodded to Harry when I came into the hall for breakfast and he returned it and then I sat down with Blaise. I'm sure she was making things harder upon herself by sticking by me, but I was grateful for her support. It was strange because even though I was a Slytherin and controversy surrounded us to a certain extent in amongst the rest of the houses – I had never personally been the target myself. Alone. Like this. Harry was used to being stared at and talked about it. I wasn't. And all this singular attention that I was receiving was grating to say the least.

The rest of the day I felt like crap. The lessons bored me and I spent way too much time thinking things over. A part of me was all tense as I was still anticipating my mother's reaction to what she would hear soon. And, even though only a few days ago I had held Harry and told him he wasn't alone, I felt truly alone. Harry had me, I was confident in that knowledge, but I couldn't help questioning if Harry was there for me. Was this a balanced friendship? Not really….it had all been about Harry these past few months and I knew this of course and was annoyed that I was letting such thoughts cross my mind. Maybe I was determined to feel sorry for myself on this day; maybe it was a combination of things. Worried about being alone and having no one was scary… although I was sure I had my parents love I wasn't so sure of their support in all the recent developments in my life. I had lost two friends and the respect from my house, no one wanted to speak to me and I felt so exposed. I hated being exposed. My mask had always been a good cover and now I had no cover. And so I spent the day feeling much like this.

After dinner, I went outside, disregarding all rules of curfew just like I had done previously. I sat on the same bench that Harry and I had sat on days earlier. I looked at nothing in particular. It was just wintry and there was a dark sky and dark grass and faint tree shapes in the distance. Not much else. In fact, it was freezing but I could not be bothered to do a warming charm on my cloak. I think I wanted to be cold, to feel it so I could feel even more morose. Stupid, but often when you're feeling sorry for yourself, you do things that really won't make you feel any better, only worse. And you get some sick kick out of it. I think I was at this moment, imagining that things couldn't be worse for me, though in ways it was better than it had ever been. I knew this deep down but I just didn't care right this second. I didn't want to be glad of anything. I crossed my arms across my chest, a frown creasing my brows.

A few minutes later I heard faint footsteps and a rustle of fabric coming closer. I knew who it was. I could tell by the tread falls. But I didn't turn back to look. A moment later, Harry sat quietly next to me.

He was looking at me and now I felt odd because his eyes were on me and I was aware of him. My eyes flickered and from the corner of my eye, I saw Harry take in a deep breath and then settling back into the bench that wasn't comfortable at all. Hard edges against the back, straight wood underneath.

We didn't talk. Not for a while. The silence was filled with the icy air swirling around us, though I have to say, I felt warmed by Harry's presence.

'You look frozen,' Harry casually commented.

I shrugged.

'How long do you plan on sitting out here?'

'However long I feel like it,' I remarked shortly.

'Ok,' Harry replied simply.

I wet my lips and sniffed. Shit, it was fucking cold.

'Here,' Harry said and handed me a tissue. I took it and begrudgingly blew my nose. And then screwed the tissue in my hand and remained quiet.

A while later, I couldn't help but turn to look at Harry. He met my eyes and offered me a small smile. This friend's thing was shit. I know I was constantly back pedalling and changing my mind on the many emotions I was feeling, but really this friend's thing sucked. Royally. I was too selfish to want to be friends, I knew it. I had waited too long to be with Harry and now getting this close to him but not being with him was frustrating and boring at times. I wish I could just learn to be patient and I think I had been, but patience had never been one of my virtues. And at the back of my mind, constantly, I kept telling myself that I would need to say sorry to him at some point. I wanted to and had many opportunities by now. But it was just so… not relevant to what _we_ were right now. We were friends and to say sorry about ''dumping'' him would just ruin things. That's what I honestly thought. To bring our past into this fragile relationship that we were just starting to build didn't make sense. There would be a time and place for it at some point- just not now. I guess it also felt too weird about apologising for something that had happened so many months ago. I had never learnt to say sorry. Properly.

I sighed heavily causing Harry to ask in a concerned voice, 'tell me what's wrong?'

And I couldn't so instead shrugged pointlessly, 'I just feel like being miserable for a bit. I'm having a bad day and want to revel in it.'

'Well misery loves company,' Harry quipped and I let slip a smile.

'Don't make me smile, you're ruining my brooding,' I retorted hotly with no real bite.

'I should let you be miserable then?'

'If you don't mind…'

'Okay,' and he pressed slightly closer to me so I could feel our arms touching. It was pleasant feeling him against me.

'So you don't want to talk about what's troubling you…or just don't want to talk full stop?'

'Both.'

'Would you like me to go?' he asked seriously and I hesitated. No, I didn't want him to go, and yes I did…want…him...to…go. No, I guess I didn't so I shook my head.

'Ok, well should I talk instead?'

I shrugged indifferently but really I would quite like to hear him talk. 'Sure.'

'I was nearly sorted into Slytherin when I first came here.'

'What?' I said looking at him sharply. 'How could you be _nearly_ sorted? It just decides for you on your traits, you can't choose.'

'I did.' Harry shifted a little and sniffed slightly.

'You chose not to be in Slytherin?'

'Mmm mmm.'

'Wonder what would have happened if you had stayed with Slytherin then….' And I tried to imagine for a moment what that would have been like. I found that I couldn't. It was too hard.

'I know.'

'That would have been weird.'

'I agree,' Harry murmured. And then he said,' you _can_ talk to me…about anything.' His words sounded so sincere and even though I had spoken the same to him only a few short days ago, they comforted me greatly. It meant a lot coming from him.

'Yeah?' I replied.

'Yes,' he answered back firmly.

And we sat for a second time in three days on the bench in a companionable silence.

* * *

Of course that night I dreamt exactly what I would have quite liked to have happened if Harry had been sorted into Slytherin. And I have to say it was the best dream I had in a long time. In it, Harry and I had been best friends since we were eleven. And in the dream I was in love with him; my best friend. I kissed him and he kissed me back and we went to the Slytherin dorms where we kissed some more and my world was perfect. 

Unfortunately, it was just a dream and the next day, being around Harry was all that much harder. He kept meeting my eyes every time I stared at him and I would look away feeling my cheeks grow hot. I really wanted to be the Draco I had been in my fantastical dream. The Draco where he could kiss his Harry and touch him. Lucky bugger.

Later on the next day, we were sat in a classroom after an hour of reluctant essay writing together. Our robes and ties had been discarded in a pile on top of a desk and we were currently munching on sandwiches Harry had brought up from the kitchen.

I finally looked at the clock and realised that it was about time I made an appearance in the common room. It was bad enough that I was hardly talking to any of my housemates but I didn't want to shirk away from prefect duties. I still wanted the younger Slytherins to know that they could still come to me if they wanted.

'Hey,' I said looking over at him.

'Mmm?' he mumbled over a mouthful.

'I better get going…'

He nodded and then swallowed, smacking his lips together whilst wiping away crumbs around his mouth.

I picked up my tie and robes and slipped them on as Harry reached for his robe and straightened it out.

I gathered my books and then watched him fumble about with various quills and parchments that were shoved haphazardly into his bag

'Seen my tie anywhere?' he asked looking about.

I glanced around the room and spotted it lying on the floor under a desk. I scooped it up and walked over to him. He offered me a palm to take it but instead I looped it around his neck, stepping closer. And suddenly we were really close and ridiculously I felt my fingers tremble as I pulled his tie into even lengths on top of his shirt. He swallowed visibly and his eyes flickered to my mouth. It was weird but I felt all light headed as I began to do up his tie. My fingers gliding over the smooth material against the skin around his neck. Brushing past the soft hairs on his nape. Harry's lashes lowered and I wasn't sure if he was watching my hand movements or just didn't want to meet my gaze. My breath caught and I was so aware that I was breathing.

I was so in love.

I took in a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile as I smoothed out a knot and then stood there holding the tail of the tie loosely in my fingers.

We both just stood there.

I wondered if I were to write a diary of my time spent with Harry, if I would write really mundane things in it like, 'today I did up Harry's tie for him'. Really trivial things like that seeing as it was all the physical contact I had with him. I didn't want to move at this moment. I wanted to make sure I remembered the way his face looked as he gazed at the floor, the way his hair was mussed in small spikes on the top of his head. I wanted to remember all of this, steadily filling up volume upon volume of small but dear memories.

My knees weakened and all I really wanted to do was lean a little more closely and kiss him. It seemed so harmless - just ducking forward and kissing him. But the remaining visuals of the last kiss were still a little too vivid for me so I didn't dare. I didn't dare put my arms around Harry – even though that seemed relatively harmless too. I really wanted to feel his arms around me. I wanted to hear him say he loved me. I was so ready for this. For him. I'd been ready for so long. I wanted to be owned by Harry and taken by Harry and belong to him but I knew that Harry wasn't ready for me. He just wasn't.

I stepped back a little and Harry lifted his eyes and met mine. He looked a little dazzled, his eyes hazy. He almost seemed a little drunk for a hairbreadth of a second. And then he smiled, quirky and cute and I returned it sincerely. Hesitating for a second, I then smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles on Harry's robe just so I could feel him. And he let me as we stared at one another and I kissed him with my gaze. My eyes caressing the soft pink lips that now were being licked with a small tip of a tongue.

'We should, err, go I guess,' Harry said, breaking the strange silence around us.

I nodded, not wanting to say yes. I never wanted to say yes to Harry leaving, nodding would be enough. Harry cleared his throat and smiled tentatively at me. He knew, I could tell. He knew how I felt but he wasn't ready to address it. Not yet.

TBC…

* * *

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	17. Yuletide Surprises

**Disclaimer: As always, Miss JK Rowling wrote Harry Potter and deserves all sorts of credit for creating such a wonderful universe.**

**I hope you like this chapter somewhat - and if not, then the story is always sad to lose readers but I would rather you read something else that you enjoy, than plough through something of this length and be disappointed. **

**Thank you to Coffeecat for making this chapter come alive. It was an empty box before- my beta placed in it a present and wrapped it. **

**Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to everyone reading this x Karina**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen – Yuletide Surprises**

A week before the Christmas term ended, Dobby appeared in the common room and asked Harry if he could come to Professor Dumbledore's office.

Ten minutes later, Harry found himself confronted with the gargoyle outside the entrance. He wondered if he would have to go through an extensive list of sweets in order to gain entrance but, thankfully, Dobby appeared at his side and whispered the password to him. Thanking the house-elf, Harry went up the winding stairs, knocked at the door and entered. In the large room, he did not see Professor Dumbledore but instead there stood Remus

'Hey, Remus,' Harry said closing the door behind him, looking surprised. 'I thought Professor Dumbledore wanted to see me?'

Remus crossed the room towards Harry, 'no, it was I who wanted to see you. Albus said I could use his office.'

'Ok,' Harry replied, sounding a little unsure. He hadn't seen Remus all that much since school had started in September, so he was always a little surprised when he did.

'I wondered if we could have a talk…' Harry frowned automatically as Remus looked a little apprehensive. He slowly walked over to the armchairs that were by the large desk.

'Take a seat please,' Remus motioned to one of the chairs and then sat down himself.

'Is this bad news, Remus?' Harry couldn't help but ask. Remus looked tense and Harry felt himself prickle with unease.

Remus quickly waved a hand, 'no, no, it isn't. Nothing like that.' He cleared his throat. 'Don't be concerned, I don't want you to be…'

Harry's brows rose and he scratched his neck whilst waiting for Remus to continue.

'Basically, I have something I need to tell you that's all.'

'All right…' Harry said sounding hesitant. He couldn't imagine what Remus was about to tell him, but by the look on the man's face, Harry wasn't anticipating good news.

Remus smiled tentatively in response. He ran a hand through his short, brown-peppered hair and then a palm against a roughened, small beard across his cheeks. It was nearing the full moon; Remus always looked slightly ill and unkempt at these times.

'During the summer, I came into possession of an item that I would have discussed with you at the time but considering what had happened, I felt…'

His eyes caught Harry's for a moment, betraying an uncharacteristic show of emotion. They seemed bright and Harry was almost convinced that they had filled with tears. It wasn't that Harry thought Remus was unfeeling, far from it, but he felt that Remus wasn't very comfortable with displays of emotion. Not that he was one to talk…

'You didn't want to tell me because you thought I wasn't well enough?' Harry helped him along with what he thought Remus was about to say.

'Yes, exactly, I didn't want to trouble you, I mean not that's it troubling per se,' he said quickly. 'Just that it was extra information that I thought you could do without at the time. I don't know if I made the right decision and you can tell me if I was wrong. But here it is.'

Harry sat quietly, feeling a little perplexed.

'It came to me on your birthday. When you turned seventeen.'

Harry nodded, his breath stilled.

'It was from Sirius, Harry.'

From Sirius? Harry felt his gut clench instantly at the sound of his late godfather's name. He fidgeted in his seat, 'what was it?'

Remus took a deep breath and sat forward in his chair. 'It was his will. He left a will stating I could read it and then forward it to you along with the details.'

Sirius had left a will, which made sense, but Harry had never even thought about it. His godfather was dead and that was all he knew. He had never spared a thought on what had happened to Sirius' possessions. 'But, it's been over a year, how come now?'

Remus cleared his throat again and then stood back up. Harry knew the feeling; it was as if your body had to do something, as your mind was too uncomfortable to do much else. He propped himself against the desk and looked down at Harry with a sombre expression. 'It would seem that he spelled it in a way that, if he had passed away, the will would only be activated the day you came of age. ' He paused for a moment and, as Harry didn't say anything, he continued. 'It was in a vault in Gringotts and I guess he must have made the will when he came out of Azkaban.' His unusually bright eyes held Harry's in a locked gaze, 'but he hadn't told me, Harry. This was the first I knew of it.'

Harry took in a deep breath and nodded again.

'Here,' Remus said and fished out a rolled up parchment from a deep pocket in his robes.

Harry took it from him carefully, his heart suddenly starting to beat faster. He didn't know how he felt about this; he couldn't help but feel he had failed Sirius somehow.

Remus stood upright and walked away from Harry to the other end of the room, pretending to look at the various shelves that adorned Dumbledore's office.

Harry read the will, and then re-read it before he spoke up.

'He's left me all that money?'

'Yes,' Remus confirmed.

'But I don't really need it, I mean….'

It was too much money. Harry didn't think he would spend even half of it in his lifetime, let alone the lump sum. He also still had the majority of the money his parents had left him.

Remus shook his head and walked back to Harry. 'He wanted you to have it, Harry. That's the bottom line.' His expression was solemn and Harry's brow creased, feeling a little overwhelmed, as Remus stood in front of him.

'But the house? I'm not even a Black…'he stammered. Harry thought one needed to be a Black descendent in order to inherit the house. He wasn't even a pure-blood.

'No, you're not,' Remus stated softly. 'But he signed the deed over to you, which I have, and so it's yours and everything in it as well. He didn't have a next of kin in that way or children and him stating that it belongs to you….it's enough.'

'But all this time, I mean, before you knew he had left it to me… what…'

'It was in Ministry possession,' Remus filled in. 'However, I did tell them of Sirius' will and said that we would have to wait till you decided what you wanted to do with the house.'

'You haven't been using it as The Order headquarters all this time have you?'

'No, we haven't, we've relocated.'

Harry looked down at the will, looking at Sirius' hand-written words. He couldn't help the strike of grief that had hit him hard moments before. He supposed it wasn't all that unusual considering he hadn't really let himself grieve for Sirius all those months ago. He had spent that time mostly in a daze and it hadn't been till Halloween that he had finally faced all that he had lost.

'He wanted you to have it, Harry. He understood that it's not the nicest place in the world and, well, it had some rather unpleasant memories for him; but he wanted you to have it because I think he felt like it was the only solid thing he could give you.'

Harry tried to process the fact that Sirius had left him a house. It was a lot to leave a seventeen year old.

'What should I do with it?' he asked mechanically, looking up into Remus' face, his hand clutching the piece of parchment as if some how he could hold onto the remains of Sirius.

'Anything you want,' Remus spoke softly, his voice laced with compassion. ' Harry, you can do whatever you like with it…'

Harry frowned slightly as he tried to absorb the enormity of what had just happened. He looked up at Remus again, searching for a hint as to what he should do next. He didn't know what to do with a house. He had barely had a room to himself let alone an actual house.

'Well, err, can you use it for The Order again?' he rushed out, thinking of the first thing that popped into his head. 'I mean… I think Sirius might like the idea. He didn't really like the house as such but at least if it's used by The Order, it's, umm, doing some good?'

Remus nodded his head slowly, considering, 'if you want. That's something you can discuss with Dumbledore if you like.'

'Aw heck, what does that mean about Kreacher?' Harry asked fearfully, as the image of the detestable creature came to mind.

'Oh right, well yes, he is… now your house elf…'

'I don't want him!' Harry said, horrified. The thought of it….

'Well, I had been thinking about that,' Remus added. 'I thought I would ask you first, of course, but how would you feel about Kreacher coming here to Hogwarts? He could work in the kitchens…'

'Yes!' Harry said passionately, grateful that he wouldn't have to deal with the horrible thing. 'That's a wonderful idea.'

'I thought you might agree,' Remus said with a half smile. 'Would you like me to take care of it?'

'Yes, please,' Harry said, thankfully.

Remus paused then and coughed before saying, 'there's something else I wanted to ask you though.'

Harry set curious eyes on him again and could see that Remus looked nervous.

'Seeing that the house is yours officially, I thought maybe you would like to spend some time in it and go through things if you want to or just see how you feel about it.'

'Ummm...' Harry said thinking out aloud. He wasn't sure what Remus meant by that. He wanted Harry to spend time in the house? In what sense? Harry really didn't feel all too comfortable going through the Blacks household memorabilia. There hadn't seemed like there was all that much that Sirius had wanted to keep for himself. Harry wasn't sure if it was his place to rid the house of centuries of things. Was Remus expecting him to donate items?

He looked at Remus, snapping himself out of thought.

'Well, what I meant to say is what do you think about spending your Christmas holidays there?'

'Alone?' Harry blurt out. Remus wanted him to stay alone in the house and sort through the things? He didn't want to do that. The mere idea of it was off putting.

'No, no,' Remus waved off again, giving him a small smile, 'I was thinking how you would feel about spending some time with me - there. Just to spend time. Nothing else.'

'Oh,' Harry said. He hadn't thought of that at all. 'With you?' He couldn't help the astonished tone of his voice and hoped that he hadn't hurt Remus' feelings. But apparently it was too late for that as Remus looked at him with concern.

'You don't have to, Harry - it was just a thought…' he said, sitting back down.

But Harry cut him short and eagerly said, 'ok'.

'Ok?' Remus looked surprised. 'You'd be willing to do that?'

Harry got up, holding Sirius' will tightly in his hands. 'Yeah, why not? I mean, you're asking me because you want to, yeah?'

'Of course,' Remus said sincerely, his face looking relieved.

'And not because you feel obligated to cos that wouldn't make sense. I mean you don't have to. The will doesn't say anything about that...'

'Harry,' Remus said, 'I asked you because I wanted to spend time with you.' And he looked like he meant it for which Harry felt touched. 'And I thought this way you can go to the house as well.'

Harry gave him a small, anxious smile, 'we haven't spent a lot of time together and I'm a bit surprised that you would want me for the holidays.'

Remus looked at him gravely, pushing his fingers through his hair. 'I would always want to spend time with you, Harry, and it's unfortunate that we haven't in the past. But I thought this might be a good opportunity.' He paused thoughtfully and then asked, 'are you sure you don't want to think about it? I don't want to ruin your plans.'

Harry shook his head, 'I don't have any plans, I was just thinking that I would stay at school actually so it's fine.'

Remus smiled widely and Harry couldn't remember when he had seen Remus smile last – genuinely. It was nice.

'Well, that's settled then. I will tell Dumbledore that I will return to collect you next Saturday.' Harry looked at him, and Remus said as an afterthought, 'the full moon would have passed by then so I can stay with you for the whole duration of your holidays.'

'Ok,' Harry said and gave Remus a quick smile.

Five minutes later, on the way back to the common room, he thought over the conversation. He was honestly surprised that Remus would want to spend time with him. He could clearly remember being in hospital and wanting more than anything to have Remus at his side. But Remus hadn't. The man had looked uncomfortable and troubled any time he had visited Harry; so Harry had never voiced his silent requests. After he had come out of hospital, he hadn't thought of much. Had tried not to think about anything; it had been hard enough just living through each day. That had been a while ago and he hadn't had much contact at all with Remus recently so he was a little taken aback. But not unpleasantly. He was looking forward to spending time with his former professor.

* * *

That evening Harry waited for Draco in their usual spot by the stairs. Earlier, he had told Ron and Hermione what Remus had told him, telling them that he had also accepted Remus' invite to stay at Grimmauld Place. Hermione thought it was a wonderful idea and Ron had simply nodded his approval. Mrs Weasley had sent Harry a letter asking him to stay with the family over Christmas and, as Harry had declined last year, he was a little worried that Ron may think this as a rebuff. But he assured Harry that it was fine and that his mother would understand. 

He was grateful for Ron being so accommodating, as things had been a little strained over the past few weeks. The situation with Draco was becoming the far greater problem between them. Harry didn't think Ron would ever get over him being friends with Draco. Ron looked offended every time Draco's name came up and Harry tried to ignore it the best he could. He had explained to Ron that Draco didn't have any malevolent intentions towards him and that he was just being a good friend. Hermione had stayed quiet at the time and then called Harry clueless afterwards, telling him that Ron felt threatened of Harry's friendship with Draco. At first Harry had thought that daft, as Ron was his best friend, nothing would change that; but then he tried to put himself in Ron's shoes and discovered that Ron feeling hurt was legitimate. In response, he had tried to be a little more considerate towards Ron in hopes that things would settle down some how.

He tapped his wand on his knee and thought over the run in he had had with a few of the Gryffindors on the night Draco had come and sat with him. Harry had told them that, though he appreciated their concern, he was friends with Draco whether they liked it or not. Draco had really been there for him in a time where a friend like Draco had been much needed. It was a hard tale to swallow, Harry knew that, but it was the truth; and, if they cared about Harry at all, they would accept his decision. Although, honestly, he wasn't all that bothered what people thought, aside from his friends. Ginny hadn't really said anything except tightening her mouth primly and hadn't been speaking to him all that much, come to think of it. Neville had worn a look of utmost betrayal but also had kept quiet. But, if Harry had taken into account everyone's thoughts and feelings, he would never be able to even look at Draco let alone speak to him; so he had hurt plenty of sensibilities and feelings but he could live with that. He was used to being talked about and disliked often and, in spite of all of that, this had been the happiest he had been for months.

It really had.

Well perhaps, ''happiest'' wasn't the right word, but he certainly felt lighter and more at ease somehow. In a strange way, Draco had given him freedom that he didn't know he even wanted. He had been locked in his own thoughts for so long that he had forgotten what it was like to actually communicate with someone. He hadn't been able to speak to Ron or Hermione about so many things and he felt bad that he couldn't, but with Draco it had been different, easier. Being with Draco was always so different than when he was with his other friends. But then Draco was more than a friend to Harry. It had just lain dormant for a while but Draco had rekindled and ignited their relationship.

It now seemed a lifetime ago, but when Draco had seemingly laid the final nail in the coffin, Harry thought he would never recover from the heartbreak. It had been excruciating. But then he had died or had hoped to die; because the attack had been so awful that he couldn't imagine living through the rest of his days. The recuperation after the attack had taken him months and along with it, a multitude of emotional turmoil ensued. Guilt, terror, abject loneliness; they had been some of the worst days Harry had ever spent, where the thought of getting up every day filled him with dread.

Looking back now, through it all Draco had been on the sidelines, offering to help him with a smile and gentle words. Sadly, that kiss at the end of last year had completely thrown Harry off kilter. He hadn't been prepared for it or anticipated it. It had been unexpected and, frankly, bad timing on Draco's part. Harry hadn't been able to deal with the pure rawness of what that kiss had done to him. He had put a protective shield around himself that disabled him from feeling anything, as he just hadn't been able to cope at all. Therefore, Draco pricking him with emotion had made him flee in panic. Of course being back at the Dursleys that evening had numbed him even more and solidified his resolve that it was better to not feel at all.

Apparently, that route really hadn't done him any favours; he could see that now. He had been a mess when he had come back to school in September. His magic had been destructive and unpredictable and he had felt so isolated from everyone. But on Halloween, Draco had told him that it was all right to feel and had let Harry break with emotion. He told Harry that he wasn't alone and Harry finally believed it. He had held Harry through it all and comforted him and Harry couldn't even express how awed he felt afterwards. He thought laying yourself vulnerable made you an easy target, Draco having previously been the learning lesson there; but he now understood that there were people who really came through for you and your vulnerability wasn't a sore to expose and misuse. It was there as an honest portrayal and, with the right person, it was a strength and trust to build up and have. And he had that with Draco.

His eyes flickered up as the door that led down to the Slytherin house opened. Harry smiled as he watched Draco materialise. Draco grinned back, his elegant face lighting up. He shut the door behind him as he strolled over to Harry. He had taken off his tie and jumper; his white shirt open a few buttons at the neck, his black robes swirling behind him.

'Hey,' he said stepping over to Harry and taking a seat alongside him.

'Hey,' Harry replied. Draco's grey eyes caught the candlelight in the hall and Harry stared into them for a moment before looking away. Looking into Draco's eyes was a little unnerving; it made him feel jittery.

'Um,' he said, 'I have something to tell you.'

'Oh,' Draco responded, looking interested. He leaned back on his elbows and watched Harry with a penetrating gaze.

Harry also leaned back on his elbows and looked around them. He couldn't really see anyone about right now.

'Well, Remus came to see me today.'

'Yeah?' Draco prompted.

'He, err, told me some stuff…'

'Stuff?' Draco questioned with a raised brow and suddenly looked worried. He sat back up, 'what ''stuff''?'

Harry smiled at Draco's concern and stood up gesturing with a little nod of his head, 'let's go some place?'

Ok,' Draco said, his brows knitting together in a small frown. He followed Harry to the front door and then outside to their usual spot, the bench by the greenhouses.

'Its all right,' Harry said quickly, seeing that Draco looked so anxious.

'Ok, well what did he say?' he asked, looking keen, as he sat himself down with Harry.

Harry immediately felt safer and warmer with Draco sitting at his side and smiled inwardly at the thought. He took a deep breath, pausing and then said, 'right,' and proceeded to tell Draco the details.

Draco's troubled frown turned into a solemn expression as he listened quietly and then finally nodded, 'I've heard of those wills that are activated when you come of age. A lot of grandparents, great grandparents, leave wills like that.'

Harry looked down for a moment, 'because they don't anticipate being alive when the child comes of age?'

Draco rubbed his nose and then said softly, 'yeah, I suppose.'

They sat quietly for a moment and then Draco cleared his throat. 'So for the whole of the holidays then?'

'Mmm.'

Draco sniffed in the cold air, his nose wrinkling up momentarily. 'Are you going to be all right?'

Harry nodded, 'yeah I think so. I mean I haven't been back since Christmas holidays fifth year but I think it would be good for me to go back now.'

'Ok,' Draco turned to his side and Harry let himself take in Draco's slightly red nose and the slight tinge of red on his cheeks on his otherwise pale-white complexion. He had shaved off his stubble a few weeks back, though he had looked rather good with it. His hair was still short and it was always so easy to spot Draco from afar, his white-blond head standing out starkly in comparison to others.

'So what about you?' Harry enquired. 'What are you doing over the holidays?'

Draco's expression soured slightly. 'France, again. We leave like the Wednesday before Christmas.' He paused reflectively and then continued, 'I think my mother has moved there, she just hasn't told me officially or has forgotten to tell me.'

Harry nodded.

Draco sighed, 'I was thinking I should write her but, actually, I can just hash it out with her in person.' He shrugged and his eyes flickered away as a bird flew past. Harry knew what subject matter Draco was intending to ''hash out'' with his mother.

'Well, I'll send Hedwig to you, so we can keep in touch. Let me know how things are. But sorry I can't give you the address…' he trailed off and Draco held up his hand.

'Yeah, whatever, it's fine. But, yes, we will keep in touch.' His lips curled up in a gentle smile and Harry smiled back.

* * *

Remus came to collect Harry from school on Saturday morning. After Harry had said his goodbyes, he walked to Hogsmeade with Remus and, then holding onto Remus' arm, Apparated to a seemingly random street corner. They walked a short distance, which Harry now remembered, and Remus stopped on a street, staring at two houses. He looked at Harry expectantly and Harry realised he hadn't been concentrating at all and could not see number twelve. 

'Do you still remember the address?' Remus asked gently. Harry took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, repeating the address a few times in his mind. His heart started to beat faster as he opened his eyes and looked ahead of him. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place loomed up ever large and derelict looking. Harry bit his lip hard and gave Remus a small smile before following him to the entrance.

He was remembering the last time he had come to the house. The memories rushed up at him and he remembered the last time Sirius had said goodbye to him here… His throat tightened and he let out a small, heavy sigh.

'Harry?'

Harry nodded to reassure Remus that he was ok and stepped up to the door with him.

The black, weather-beaten front door creaked open and Harry was immediately hit with the musty scent of the house. Crinkling his nose a little, he walked over the threshold and into the hallway. He was pleasantly surprised to see the hallway lit up with a lot of candelabras so it looked a lot brighter than what he remembered.

'I came this morning, just to…' Remus attempted to explain as he put down his various bags on the thin carpet.

'Thanks,' Harry said appreciatively. Remus had tried to make the house look a little more welcoming and that had been very thoughtful of him.

'We can put up more lights and with some Christmas decorations…' Remus looked about the brightly lit but otherwise gloomy hallway.

'Yeah, it will be fine,' Harry agreed in a soothing voice. He didn't want Remus to feel bad about the state of the house; after all, he wasn't to blame. The house was what it was; there was no escaping that.

'So,' Remus cleared his throat. 'I thought you could pick a room which you would like to make your own and then we can have something to eat?' He waited for Harry to indicate his approval, which Harry noticed, and did quickly. 'And then on to some decorations, perhaps, get the tree out? If you feel up to it?'

'Yes, ok,' Harry said amiably.

He levitated his trunk and walked down the corridor, carefully tip toeing past the portrait of Mrs Black. Remus had drawn the curtains together so she couldn't see anyone, maybe she was asleep... she was very quiet. Harry preferred it that way.

'Where do you think you're going to sleep?' Harry enquired as Remus followed behind him up the stairs.

'I'm not sure, probably the third floor where I slept the last time.'

'There were quite a few rooms on the fourth floor which I didn't really look around…' Harry trailed off.

'Yes,' Remus said as they continued to ascend the staircase. 'There are a few rooms on that floor…'

Harry stopped in the short corridor once he reached the third floor.

Remus lowered his trunk outside one of the doors and then his eyes caught Harry's. He looked at Harry silently and coughed once and said, 'do you want me to come up with you and we can see if there is a nice room?'

Feeling relieved without knowing he had been anxious, Harry nodded gratefully and Remus followed behind him as they climbed up to the next floor.

Buckbeak used to be on the fifth floor, Mrs Black's old bedroom. But Harry didn't even want to go as far as the fifth floor.

The fourth floor spread out once they reached the corridor. There were three rooms that led off it. Harry peeped in the first one on the left, which was a small room. The next door was a large bathroom and the one opposite it was a large bedroom. It had a window overlooking the garden, which Harry hadn't really used the last time…

'This is all right,' he said, lowering his trunk and the bag from his shoulder.

'Yes,' Remus said, 'it looks nice…' as nice as it could in this place. 'Are you sure you will be all right here, on this floor?'

'Yeah, I'll be fine,' Harry said taking a deep breath, looking around. There was a large bed, swathed in a rather garish, faded duvet with ugly brown and pink roses patterned all over it opposite the window. A double-sized cupboard on the far right with a set of drawers next to it and a desk just on the right-hand side of the window. He could try and make it a little homey…he felt that he owed it to Sirius to at least try and feel a little more comfortable here. The first thing he was going to do was get rid of that duvet set – it was hideous.

'Right,' Remus said walking back to the door. 'Let's unpack and I will meet you downstairs in about twenty minutes?'

Harry took in another deep breath and smiled again as Remus stepped out into the corridor and then down the stairs.

* * *

By the next afternoon, Harry and Remus had managed to put up the Christmas tree with all the trimmings; so next they decided they would decorate the rest of the house. Harry had the feeling that Remus wanted to cover the house with festivity so one couldn't look underneath the mask of Grimmauld. Smother the gloominess under mountains of twinkly lights and tinsel. And Harry went along with it; after all he wanted to feel cheerful during the holidays, which was rather uplifting in a way he hadn't felt for a very long time. Plus he wanted Remus to feel good too. The man had shown Harry kindness, which Harry had not expected at all. However, it wasn't that Harry could forget for a moment that this was Sirius' house or that he was dead… but he had to make his stay here bearable and comforted himself in the fact that Sirius had left the house to him for a reason. 

Harry looked at the clock in the living room and went to make some tea as Remus unravelled ribbons of mistletoe to put on the banisters. He came back with tea and a plateful of biscuits.

'Thanks,' Remus said, putting down his wand and settling down on the sofa.

Harry poured the tea and then sat on the floor, taking a biscuit and dunking it into his cup.

Remus had put on the wireless and soothing Christmas tunes filtered out of the speakers and into the room. The space looked cosier already. The tree was large and beautiful just like it had been two Christmases ago, a pile of presents lay about it and floating candles danced near the ceiling encasing the room in a glow.

Harry swallowed his mouthful and then hesitating, reached for another biscuit and said, 'err, Remus? I was thinking that, ummm…'

Remus was also chewing his softened biscuit in his mouth and said, 'yes?'

Harry shifted on his knees and looked into his cup, 'well once I finish school - I mean I only had to stay with the Dursleys till school ended right?'

His eyes shot up to Remus who looked a little taken aback.

'Well…' he began.

'Because I don't think they seriously would want me to carry on living with them,' and then he mumbled, 'and I don't want to go back after what happened over summer.'

Remus frowned and set his cup down on the table, 'you know, Harry, Arthur told me what he thought happened and I have to say that, if you were in danger, subconsciously or not, you were right to defend yourself. '

Harry listened to Remus' words and looked up at him, the warm eyes gazing into his own intensely.

Remus sighed and then said, 'I ought to have asked before but why weren't you more specific with the Aurors?'

Harry shrugged, looking back down. 'There was no point.'

'You were hurt, there was a point.'

Harry looked back up again and Remus looked back at him with a discerning eye.

'Had it happened before?'

'No,' Harry answered. 'That was the first time.'

Remus ran a palm over his mouth and then said thoughtfully, 'do you ever talk to your friends about the Dursleys?'

Harry shrugged again, 'the Weasleys know enough as does Hermione. And that's it. There's nothing else to tell. It's over.' Harry gave a decisive nod and he thought Remus looked a little pained

'Anyway,' Harry said, hopefully changing the subject. He rubbed his chin and then dunked the biscuit that he was still holding in his fingers. 'I was thinking last night, could I technically live here after school finished? I mean am I allowed to? I'm an adult now, yes? I mean I am. So I can live by myself? This is my home?'

Remus' mouth opened in a silent O and then nodded, 'yes, Harry. Of course, this is your home. You can live here if you like. Of course you can.' His eyes looked at Harry with understanding and Harry returned the gaze with a small smile.

'Because I was just trying to think ahead and I don't really have anywhere to live…you know… so this is the closest thing I would have to a home.' He looked at Remus a little uncomfortable about revealing his innermost thoughts but figured it could do no harm. 'Before Hogwarts was always home,' he carried on, 'but I will have to leave school. I can't stay there forever...'

'Harry…' Remus interrupted and Harry cut in swiftly.

'Remus, it's ok. I just wanted to ask you that's all.'

Remus pursed his lips and nodded, looking at Harry and then down at the table on which lay his unfinished tea. He picked it up again and sipped it and Harry and he quietly enjoyed their tea as the music continued to flow around them.

'Do you think you would stay here sometimes?' Harry asked suddenly, after a few minutes. 'If I ask Dumbledore to resume The Order meetings here again, there will be lots of people about and you could stay here couldn't you? If you wanted to?'

Remus had an odd look in his eyes and Harry bit his lip, worried that he had said too much. He didn't want to come across as being needy or clingy but the thought of living in this house alone was a daunting prospect. It would be nice if Remus could drop in now and again.

'The Weasleys could too sometimes, couldn't they?'

Remus nodded. 'Yes they can. Is that what you want?'

Harry offered him an unsure smile, 'that's what I would like…'

'Ok,' Remus said with a note of conviction.

They drank the rest of their tea in silence and then Harry got up and picked up the mistletoe garlands and Remus took out the tray. Harry stepped out into the hall just as Remus returned.

'Shall I put it on the banisters?' Harry asked, 'with some bits of holly sort of weaved through them?'

'Yes,' Remus agreed, 'that would be nice.'

Harry wound one end of the garland on the banisters and then, flicking at it with his wand, he sent the garland spiralling through the banisters.

Remus craned his head and looked up the stairs, 'you got that all the way up?' He stepped up a few stairs and peered above. 'That's all the way to the top…'

Harry took out the holly and flicked again and weaved it all the way up the garland in a few seconds.

'That's impressive,' Remus with an almost proud expression, 'you've managed to control it well haven't you?'

'Well yeah, um, it's been a lot better since term started. I've learnt how to manage it now and I've had a lot of help from my friends…'

'That's good,' Remus said sincerely. 'I'm glad that you seem to have mastered it so well. It's …..' He looked as if he was about to say something else but then changed his mind. 'I'm very glad that you're ok, Harry,' he sighed and then gave Harry a thin smile and Harry stood a little awkwardly.

'Ok,' Remus clapped his hands together, 'let's see what you can do with snow then.'

* * *

Christmas Eve

After supper on Christmas Eve, Harry and Remus slumped onto the sofa and listened to a Christmas story that was being read on the wireless. Harry lay contentedly and glanced over at Remus who looked relaxed. They were having a nice time, Harry realised. It had been a really nice few days. After the story ended, Remus sat up in the sofa and suddenly looked a little uneasy.

'Harry, I wanted to show you something…'

Harry picked his head up off the arm rest and asked, 'what is it?'

Remus looked down at his hands and then inhaled deeply as Harry propped himself a little higher. 'Well, keeping in mind that you haven't grown up with magical objects around you, the best way I can describe it to you is that it is like a muggle home video.'

Harry felt his heart twist uncomfortably in anticipation, 'like a home movie?'

Remus nodded, 'yes, exactly like that. Only it works a lot like how a Pensieve would work. Basically you do a spell that conjures a Pensieve orb and you let it float around the room, taping if you will the scene around it. The caster chooses when it activates and then ends it when they want. You put the orb in a memory box…' and then he got up and walked over to one of the side cupboards and took out a small jar with silvery vapour swirling about inside. 'Or it can be a memory jar like this one...' he walked back to Harry, holding the medium-sized glass jar in his hand. Harry looked at it as Remus spoke, 'you can watch it on a projector. They are very similar to muggle projectors only instead of slides, you put in the memory mist.'

Harry licked his lips that had gone dry. 'You have a memory to show me?'

Remus swallowed heavily, and bit in his lip before speaking again. 'Well, yes, I thought you might like to see it. If you think you want to…'

Harry nodded slowly, 'ok…but what is it of?'

'It's of your parents and you are in it, just a few months old. And Sirius and I are there.' He paused and the continued 'it was taken early December nineteen eighty.'

Harry looked at him quietly, his stomach lurching at the prospect of seeing his parents and Sirius.

'I don't want to upset you, Harry,' Remus' voice was gentle. 'I just thought maybe you would like to see it. I wanted to give you the option.'

'No, I, umm,' Harry sat up, 'I want to. It's ok. Please.'

Remus stood up again, 'ok, well let me set it up.'

He went outside of the room for a few moments and Harry tried to calm himself, feeling on edge and peculiar. It had felt so strange to see his parents in magical photos but to see them actually laughing and walking around, talking with _him _in the actual picture; the idea of it…

'Right, here we are,' Remus brought in a contraption that looked exactly like a projector only with a funnel at the back, where Harry now watched Remus pour in the silvery mist from the jar.

'It's only a few minutes long. I thought we could watch it together, if that's all right?'

Harry nodded, feeling his voice seize and Remus looked at him worriedly, 'if at any time you want to stop, just tap it and it will, ok?'

Harry took in an uneven breath and was surprised to see that his hands were shaking. He reached for his wand and gripped it tightly so he had something to hold and then managed to say, 'its fine. I'm ready.'

Remus pressed his lips in a tight smile and then spelled the lights off and tapped the projector with his wand, activating the movie to begin.

* * *

**December 1980**

_The scene takes place in a small living room. The tips of a decorated Christmas tree can be seen on the right-hand side of the screen. There are two large, red armchairs in view and there is a wall behind the chairs with a large window cut out which looks into the kitchen. Lily, with her red hair in a plait, wearing a deep purple turtleneck, can be seen in the kitchen wandering around. James and Sirius are sitting on the carpeted floor with a nearly, five-month old Harry who is in Sirius' arms. Remus' voice can be heard but he is not seen yet. _

'Ok, I cast it.'

Remus then comes to the front and now can be seen fully. He is twenty years old, hair light brown and longish, touching the back of his nape. He looks very young and happy with an easy smile and pleasant eyes. He grins at the orb and then backs away and is seen wearing a blue shirt under brown robes. 'Do you know the last time I created an orb was in the seventh year?'

'Yeah I remember,' Sirius says, as he holds Harry in his lap, waving his small arms about. Sirius is striking with his black hair also worn a little long and a fringe that artfully hangs over one eye. He is wearing faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt.

'I still had some mist left in the packet so thought I would use it before the sell by date.' Remus walks to the back of the wall and leans in towards the window.

'What's the life span on these things?' James is sitting with his long legs stretched out in dark jeans in front of him, as he casually rests on his hands. He is a handsome young man with a lot of black hair and glasses; similar to the ones Harry wears now.

'Um,' says Remus turning his face towards James. 'About five years I think, but it starts to thin out towards the end. You can feel it deflate in the packet.'

Sirius picks Harry up in his hands and turns him around, cradling him in his arms and smiling down at him. Harry, wearing a two-piece outfit consisting of a woolly blue top and little brown trousers with tiny, blue-socked feet, grabs a handful of Sirius' hair, which flops down over his forehead.

'Ow,' Sirius yelps and gently untangles Harry's tiny fist away from his hair.

'He has quite a pull,' Sirius tells James as he lowers Harry back onto his lap, and rubs his head. Harry sucks at his fingers looking content and happy.

Remus and Lily are now chattering but their words cannot be heard clearly as James grins at Sirius, 'yeah he has.'

'He can hold his head up too,' Lily suddenly shouts out proudly, peering out through the window.

'Can you?' Sirius asks Harry. He carefully lifts Harry under his arms and sure enough Harry keeps his head firm on his shoulders.

'Hey, when did he start to do that?' Sirius frowns and then kisses Harry on his forehead.

'Um,' James says, leaning over and running a hand over Harry's head. 'Four days ago I think.'

'I don't visit for a week and he is already holding himself up?' Sirius cries out. 'He'll be Apparating next,' he exclaims.

He jiggles Harry about in his hands, 'aren't you a clever little boy? Yes you are.' He looks at James, 'wow, that's amazing.'

'And we're going to start him on solids soon,' Lily shouts out again.

'Yeah, 'James chimes in. 'He's been chewing on my finger this week so we think it's time we tried. He is starting to teeth.'

'Stop!' Sirius protests. 'He is growing up too fast.'

James claps loudly and Harry turns his head towards the noise, a baby smile decorating his lips. His eyes are brilliant green as he blinks inquisitively.

'He is going to be so clever.' Sirius coos in a knowing voice. 'You can just see it.'

'Yup, takes after his mum,' Lily yells.

'Yeah, yeah,' James grins good-naturedly.

'Oh, I got him something,' Sirius says and gets up, giving Harry to James and going out of view towards the left-hand side of the screen. James cuddles Harry to him, running gentle fingers across his cheeks.

Remus is holding plates that Lily hands him through the window and also goes out of range towards the right-hand side of the screen. The sound of cutlery being set on a table can be heard.

Sirius comes back and is holding a rattle in his hands. He takes back Harry and sits on the floor again, James by his side.

'Muggle or Wizard?' James asks.

'Wizard, _but nothing funny_,' Sirius raises his voice, making sure Lily can hear him. 'It just changes colour when he shakes it.' He places the rattle in Harry's hand. 'Look.'

And Harry starts to shake it and, as it rattles, it changes from blue to red to purple to green. He smiles in delight and James looks fondly down at Harry.

'Can I take him home?' Sirius says, his eyes fixed on Harry with a gentle gaze.

'Yeah, sure,' James says casually. 'Free of charge.'

Remus comes back into view and returns to the window, picking up glasses, 'you know, Sirius, you're getting clucky.'

'No, I'm not,' Sirius says indignantly. 'I don't want a baby. I'm too _young_,' he looks pointedly at James. 'BUT,' he stresses, 'that's the whole point of having a godson. Because for the next sixteen years I can be the cool godfather who does cool stuff with him, whilst not having to have kids of my own. I got the good deal.'

'Sixteen years?' James says with a smirk. 'It's going to take you sixteen years to settle down?

'Yup,' Sirius nods matter of factly. 'That's what I reckon. Sixteen years.'

Remus laughs, 'I can see that happening. Actually I can see you at forty and still acting the way you do now.'

'Whatever,' Sirius drawls. 'You know, I never did thank you for getting Lily pregnant. Thanks for knocking her up, James.' James laughs and Sirius shakes his head. 'Seriously, because even if I don't have kids of my own, I have this little one.' He looks at Harry, who is still shaking the rattle, 'don't I?' he asks Harry.

Lily throws a green baby-gro on Sirius' head through the window as Remus carries the forks and knives out of view.

'Your mother is beating me up,' he tells Harry in a sad voice and Harry gurgles slightly. 'Where's Peter tonight?'

James shuffles himself towards the armchair, and leans back against it yawning before replying, 'um, yeah I did ask him over for dinner but he said he was busy.'

'You know, I haven't really seen him all that much recently,' Sirius says, settling Harry back into his lap.

James runs a hand through his hair, 'you haven't? I went out for drinks with him a few nights ago and he helped with Harry's new cot the other day.'

'Mmm,' Sirius murmurs.

Remus walks past and towards the left-hand side of the screen and a second later he can be seen in the kitchen through the window.

James gets up and goes out of view on the right-hand side.

Harry is playing in Sirius' lap still when Sirius suddenly sniffs.

'Hey, what's he doing?' he asks and cradles Harry in his arms.

'What?' James asks, coming back into view.

'Look,' he says, and is looking down at Harry.

'What do you _think _he is doing,' James asks amused.

'I don't know, look at his face, he's going red!' He cries out. He sniffs again, 'porrrr! What the hell are you feeding him?' He wrinkles his nose and sits Harry back on his lap gingerly and then changes his mind and begins to lift Harry towards James, 'here.'

'No, no,' James shakes his head. 'You're feeling the love, and you said you missed him. You can change his nappy.'

'Yes, godfather,' Lily's voice can be heard from the kitchen.

'I don't know how to change a nappy,' Sirius pouts.

'You can learn then, can't you?' James laughs and goes out of sight and then returns with wipes, a mat and a fresh nappy.

Sirius frowns down at the top of Harry's head and wrinkles his nose further. He sticks his tongue out and shakes his head. 'You done yet, little man?'

James crouches down and holds Harry's tiny fists in his and then leans in and sniffs.

'Yeah, I think he has.' He sits back up. 'He is all yours,' and he splays his hands out to Sirius.

Sirius reluctantly places Harry onto the changing mat and takes out his wand from his back jeans pocket.

'Whoa,' James quickly stops him. 'No magic!'

'What?' Sirius looks astonished. 'Why the hell not?'

James lowers his voice, 'Lily doesn't want any magic done directly at Harry. No magic near his bits at such a young age.' Sirius curls his lip, 'you're going to have to do it the muggle way I'm afraid,' James says sympathetically.

'You bloomin muggle, Lily,' Sirius shouts out and Lily sticks her head out of the window and snorts rudely at Sirius.

Sirius moves the mat in front of him in a way so Sirius' back is seen and James is by his right-hand side.

A minute later, Sirius wails, 'oh my God! Urrgh! Phew! That stinks!' He leans his head back and James chuckles.

'You better put a wipe over him, he has been known to tinkle.'

'You wouldn't do that to me would you, Harry?' Sirius asks in a cajoling voice. 'No peeing on Padfoot.'

Sirius grabs a handful of wipes and starts to wipe Harry. Remus comes back out of the kitchen and comes and sits on the armchair James isn't leaning against.

Sirius suddenly says, 'ta da,' and he holds Harry up who is now wearing a fresh nappy. 'There we go,' he coos at Harry. 'You're all gorgeous again aren't you?' He blows a large raspberry on Harry's stomach and Harry lets out a pleasured gurgle. James grabs the dirty nappy and goes out of view.

Sirius sits back around and tugs Harry's trousers up, and then strokes a tiny bare foot, which is now sockless. Remus swoops down and throws the small sock at Sirius who slips it back on Harry.

Suddenly, music blares out of the kitchen

''_Rudolph…Rudolph… Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer had a very shiny nose''_

'What the hell is that?' Sirius hollers.

Lily comes out of the kitchen and into the living room. She is wearing a long, black skirt under her top and purple slippers. She is a stunning young woman, with vibrant green eyes and a beautiful smile.

'Christmas songs, Black. What's your problem?' she says teasingly as she picks up the mat and wipes and takes them away.

'Muggle Christmas songs?' Sirius asks James as he sits back on the floor.

'You like muggle songs!' Remus tells him.

Sirius makes a face at Remus and Lily sits by James and strokes his hair absently. 'Dinner is ready to eat, boys.'

James looks up at Lily and squeezes her hand and says, 'I'll feed Harry and you eat.'

She ducks down and kisses James on the lips, 'ok,' and then gets up.

Sirius stands with Harry in his arms and kisses him on the nose, before handing him to Lily. Remus levitates some soft drinks through the window and to the right-hand side of the screen.

''_Rudolph with your nose so bright, won't you guide my sleigh tonight''_

Lily lifts Harry high in the air and swoops him down as he lets out a delighted laugh. She laughs with him and then hugs him tightly against her as James goes into the kitchen.

Sirius picks up the rattle and puts it on the sofa as James comes out with Harry's bottle. Lily kisses Harry and then gives him to James who cradles Harry in his left arm, and sits down in the chair.

'Oh,' Remus says, 'let me end the orb.' And he comes closer to the screen and says, '_Finite Incantatem_.'

_And then the screen fades to black._

* * *

Remus spelled the lights back on and sat quietly for a moment, looking at the wall in front of him. 

'You were so tiny,' he said unevenly. 'Look at you now…' he attempted a throaty laugh but it came out strangled.

Harry sniffed deeply and worked his throat furiously, feeling a lump lodge in his throat.

'Harry…' Remus' said softly and Harry bit his lower lip hard.

'Would you like a moment to yourself?'

Harry nodded.

'Ok, I'll get you a drink. Come to the drawing room when you're ready.'

He got up soundlessly and walked out of the room. Harry sat for a few more minutes and then tried to collect himself. He finally took a deep breath and got up on unsteady legs and walked out of the room. The bright lights of the hallway hurt his eyes, and he squinted slightly and then sniffed a few times before going next door.

'All right?' Remus asked, looking up.

Harry nodded and sat down on the sofa and wiped his nose.

Remus got up and came to sit down next to him, handing him a glass of juice.

'Should I not have shown it to you?' His voice was low and worried and Harry felt his throat hurt. He swallowed painfully and shook his head and sniffed hard again.

He waited till he was sure he could speak. 'No. I'm glad you did. Thank you. It was amazing to see them like that.' He wet his lips and cleared his throat, 'it was so normal. Just you lot hanging out.' He could imagine that scene with his own friends. He let out a shaky breath and sat back against the sofa. 'Sirius…' he began to say when all of a sudden, he felt his eyes fill and bowed his head so Remus couldn't see the tears.

It had been very hard to see Sirius and so painful to see his parents that way. They had been so young. They should never have died that young, with the rest of their lives ahead of them. His mother had been so pretty and he smiled now, because he could see how much he really did look like his father and yes, indeed, he had his mother's eyes. It hurt to see Sirius laughing and joking around. He had been so good looking and full of life and so healthy. That was what he should have looked like. And it pained Harry to remember what had become of Sirius.

'He was very good with you wasn't he?' Remus asked insightfully.

Harry nodded his throat still too tight to talk normally.

They both sat in silence for another moment and Harry sipped at his glass. He then cleared his throat. 'It was weird,' he said hoarsely. 'Seeing myself like that. Don't remember being that young.'

Remus chuckled, 'you were just a little baby.' He paused. 'That was the only scene I ever took with you in it. I wish I had more…'

'Its all right, Remus,' Harry interrupted. 'This was more than I would have even hoped for. I never even considered it.'

'You can have this too,' and he handed Harry another jar. 'It just has two of the seventh year. Your mum and dad were going out by that time.'

Harry took it and held it fast in his fingers, 'thanks,' he whispered. 'Mum teased Sirius a lot,' he said and Remus smiled.

'Yes, they were always bantering. Both of them would have heated conversations about certain topics. Neither Sirius nor your mother backed down in one of their debates. They were quite amusing to watch.'

'You miss them…' Harry said, not really asking but stating a clear fact.

Remus merely nodded. Harry couldn't even begin to imagine the pain of losing so many good friends and he felt a deep pang for Remus.

Remus coughed and tried to smile brightly, 'anyway, I was thinking that as it's Christmas Eve, I think that entitles us to open one present each.'

Harry gave a watery grin, 'you think?'

'Yes, I do,' Remus said getting up. 'Come on.'

Harry followed Remus over to the tree and then sat down on his knees.

'Choose one,' Remus said, looking through the pile of presents. He closed his eyes and picked the first one that came into his hands. It was bright blue. He opened his eyes and read the tag. 'From Tonks.'

Harry smiled and then looked through his presents. A plain green one caught his eye. It was quite large and he hesitated for a moment before picking it up.

'This one, but there's no tag on it…' he turned the package around but couldn't find one.

'Open it anyway,' Remus said and began tearing through his present. Harry now crossed his legs and set about opening his.

A few moments later, seven t-shirts slipped out into his hands. He grinned looking puzzled and looked over them. Each one had a quip or slogan on it.

'That's a lot of t-shirts,' Remus commented, extracting his present from a small box.

'Yeah,' Harry said. Mrs Weasley wouldn't send him clothing like this…Hermione? No, he didn't think so and Ron wasn't the type to get him clothes. And then suddenly it all made sense. He came across a bright orange one and read the quip. He felt himself blush and then laughed under his breath.

'It's from Draco…' he knew it. It couldn't be anyone else. He had never told anyone else about the t-shirt.

Remus raised his brows. 'Does it say inside somewhere?'

'No,' Harry said shaking his head, 'but I know it's from him.' He clutched the orange t-shirt in his hand tightly and then collected the other t-shirts together and folded them carefully.

'So, umm,' Remus cleared his throat slightly, 'you and Draco Malfoy are friends?'

Harry nodded. 'Yes, we are. Friends.'

'Good -- friends?' Remus seemed to hesitate but Harry nodded.

'He has become one, yes.' He looked at the t-shirt still in his hands. 'He's just really been there for me, like a constant. I can't explain exactly…' he ducked his head, stopping more words from spilling from his mouth.

'You talk to him a lot?' Remus persisted.

'Yeah,' Harry told him honestly. 'And he listens. I talked to him about Sirius and just other things that I feel I can tell him. I mean obviously there are things that I won't tell him, that I don't feel I ought to or something but we are friends. And he talks to me as well.'

'Do you trust him?' Remus held his gaze and Harry nodded with certainty. 'Then, I hope you are right. As long as he treats you well, Harry, I ….'

Harry thought Remus was about to say that he was granting Harry approval but thought better of it and stopped. But it was good to know that Remus did not begrudge his friendship with Draco. His approval was important to Harry, though Harry didn't quite realise that till just now.

'He is a good friend, Remus,' he said earnestly.

'All right,' Remus flicked at the shed wrappings and made them disappear in a flash. 'Well, I think I'm going to call it a night, Harry.'

'Ok, umm, but I think I'm just going to stay up a little longer.'

Remus nodded and then stood up.

Harry looked up at the tree and the dancing fairies on the top, the golden lights twinkling. And then he felt Remus' hand on his shoulder.

'You live your life, Harry, and make yourself happy, ok?'

Harry glanced up at Remus. Remus squeezed his shoulder and then patted it. 'I know that with everything going on, it becomes difficult at times but please I really want you to be happy.'

He rubbed Harry's shoulder and Harry could see the emotion flickering in Remus' eyes. He nodded and then gave him a small smile, which Remus returned gently.

'Merry Christmas,' and then he let his hand drop from Harry's shoulder.

'Merry Christmas, Remus,' Harry said sincerely. He watched Remus walk out of the room.

Remus had never spoken to him like that before. He felt a quick burst of warmth and gratitude for the older man. It was bizarre how in every step of life, you could still be so surprised about the people you knew.

He held up the t-shirt in his hands again and decided to write Draco a thank you note. He hoped Draco would like his present. And then he grinned mischievously; he was definitely going to wear this t-shirt to dinner at the Weasleys for Christmas dinner tomorrow night. He could just imagine everyone's reaction and the thought of it made him grin.

TBC…

* * *

**Thank you to: **xxbabysparklesxx, Bezzie, DazedandConfuzed, Jade Quinn, Godlovesme, Grimy Grunhilda Grunt, Vessa, Maira, Maira, AloraBraken, ajayd, dreamschemer, SuishouTenshi, lily, Nigelous, Robin the bird, riantlykalopsic, Pink Cherry Blossom, D/H - **For reviewing The Hermit. All words are absorbed like a sponge. **

**And thank you if you have recently reviewed any of the other stories.**


	18. Together At Last

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling has every right to canon Harry Potter because she wrote it. **

**Karina** **saying hey: **''Hey'' – Real life happens, can't say anymore than that. But perhaps this is the chapter many of you were waiting for. My dear, sweet beta beat her head against this chapter and made me tweak it till it twang into shape. **Happy Valentines my lil Coffeecat and Happy Valentines to you guys too xxx **

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen - Together at Last**

The Christmas holidays had passed much too quickly as usual. Harry and Remus had joined the Weasleys for Christmas dinner about four o' clock in the afternoon. As Harry had predicted, he raised many brows with his orange t-shirt. Remus tried not to smirk too often and Hermione merely looked at Harry when he had first walked in and commented, 'nice t-shirt' and left it at that. Ron, on the other hand, had snorted juice out through his nose and had a good laugh and Ginny had blushed, surprisingly.

Most noticeably, Harry could tell that everyone was slightly taken aback by his rather good mood. He had overheard Mr Weasley talking to Tonks about how Harry seemed cheerful and that it was really nice seeing him that way. Harry had smiled happily and realised that he was actually enjoying himself and he hadn't enjoyed being in a large crowd for quite sometime.

He and Remus had gone back to Grimmauld Place later in the night and spent the rest of the days talking and playing board games together. As they travelled into Kings Cross this morning, he had been a little sad to part with Remus. Parting meant the end of the holidays, but he consoled himself that he would be seeing Remus during the summer holidays.

Harry looked about his room now, making sure he had unpacked everything before going downstairs.

He had only been back at school for a short time and was itching to see Draco. He had thought a lot about Draco over the holidays and felt a tingling sensation in his stomach every time he pictured the blond boy's face in his mind. Draco was quite clearly more than a friend to him and he kept remembering what Remus had told him on Christmas Eve, ''_you live your life, Harry, and make yourself happy''_. Draco made him happy.

On his way downstairs, he caught up with a few of the Gryffindors and then hurried down to the Entrance Hall waiting for Draco to come up the stairs from the Slytherin house. In his hand he was clutching Draco's birthday present and then, as an after thought, he shrunk it and tucked it into his pocket. He hadn't owled Draco to meet him at any given point but knew instinctively that Draco would come up here as soon as he had unpacked.

He hadn't had to wait long as Draco came up the stairs ten minutes later.

'Hey,' Draco greeted, a grin across his face.

'Hey,' Harry replied, feeling a little queasy, in a good way, at seeing Draco face to face. 'You all right?' he asked, standing up, his whole face lighting up with a wide smile.

Draco nodded, still grinning as he came closer. 'Yeah, you?' His grey eyes ran slowly over Harry's form, something which Harry noted Draco did often.

'Yeah, good,' Harry answered. He bounced lightly on his heels as he stood opposite Draco by the stairs. 'So, um, thanks again for the presents. I, umm, wore the t- shirt like I said.' He broke out in a mischievous smile and Draco chuckled pleasantly, leaning against the railing of the staircase. Harry caught the faint smell of aftershave coming from Draco and sniffed appreciatively with discretion.

'Good, well glad you liked it.'

'How the hell did you get it?' Harry asked, feeling curious as to how Draco had acquired Muggle clothing. 'I mean it was the exact one I saw.'

Draco smiled easily and tapped the end of his nose, 'I'll tell you one day.'

His eyes locked with Harry's and Harry forgot words for a few seconds before remembering that he was standing in the hall. Students and teachers were walking past to and fro and Harry nodded towards the little side room.

'You want to go next door?' Draco mm'ed in agreement and followed him into the room and closed the door behind him.

'Here,' Harry said turning back to face Draco as he took out the small package from his cloak pocket. He enlarged it with a small tap of his wand and handed it to Draco. 'Happy birthday,' he said, feeling a tad nervous. He hoped Draco liked his present.

Draco took it, surprise written all over his face. He looked a little astonished and then gulped visibly. Harry felt Draco's fingers brush against his and felt Draco's hand tremble slightly, which perhaps was a little curious, unless he imagined it. Draco clutched the package and Harry watched him stare at the small parcel. It was wrapped simply in red paper with a wonky blue ribbon, which Harry had tied this morning before leaving Grimmauld.

'You didn't have to get me anything,' Draco muttered as if he wasn't sure of what to make of Harry's present. 'I mean, you already got me something for Christmas...' He turned it over in his hands and then walked over to the nearest desk. Harry kept silent and slipped onto the desk alongside him and watched Draco unwrap it. Of course he was going to get Draco a birthday present. He had remembered it on Christmas day and had asked Remus to take him to the shops on Boxing Day.

'You thought I wouldn't remember didn't you?' Harry said voicing his thoughts and looked down at Draco's bowed head. Draco looked up, catching his gaze with an unusually shy look for him.

'Well, I told you such a long time ago…. I just thought you wouldn't…' he took in a breath and gave a small shrug but looked pleased with the gesture.

'Well I did so….' Harry said, anticipating Draco's reaction.

Draco pulled off the paper and his brows furrowed together as he observed his present. A small, black box. He carefully opened it and enclosed in a black velvet cushion sat a silver snitch with the letters DM engraved on it.

'Shit, Harry,' He exclaimed as his eyes widened. 'That's amazing. Thank you. It's great.'

Harry smiled broadly, chuffed, 'glad you like it.'

'I really do.'

Draco stared at the snitch for a second and then placed it in his palm. The silver ball glinted in his hand and he closed his fingers around it tightly. He looked back at Harry and bit his lip and then awkwardly thrust out an arm and gave Harry a quick one-armed hug. Harry leant in towards the touch, wanting to savour the feel of Draco's body, but Draco moved back quickly, looking a little embarrassed. Harry felt strangely bereft for a moment and then cleared his throat and changed the subject.

'So how was your New Years?'

'Good,' Draco said, putting the snitch back in the box with a smile. 'Yours?'

'Yeah,' Harry replied. 'Good.'

'Great.'

They both went silent again and then Harry sniggered, causing Draco to chortle back, easing the underlying tension that had risen between them. It was awkward tension. Tension as in ''_are we friends? Are we something else? What's going on_'' tension. Draco stared down at the black box that was still in his hands, his arm pressing against Harry's.

'How did things go with your mum?' Harry asked tentatively. He was quite sure that Draco's mother would not take the news well of her only son being friends with Harry Potter. Honestly, he was worried for Draco and how Draco was going to handle the issue.

'Well…' Draco began slowly. 'I kinda basically told her a sort of concoction of what really happened… I mean not exactly how it was but, um, some sort of composite of what happened. Just that and, well, how things had changed after your attack and I found I no longer did or wanted to go on hating you.'

Harry raised his brows, taking in a deep breath. 'Bet that went well. And…?'

Draco gave a dry laugh and shook his head, his fingers tightening around the box. 'She is a bit appalled with me and a bit concerned about me. I mean, all through the year, she kept trying to get me to be neutral. Not be on either side I think, but she certainly didn't expect me to befriend you. And well, we had a row… but she's my mother.' He looked at Harry, his eyes clear and direct. 'My mum wouldn't ever hate me. I know she loves me regardless…and will continue to love me in spite of my faults,' he smirked slightly, 'namely _you_.' Harry poked out his tongue in response.

Draco shrugged again, casually like it didn't matter, 'she isn't really talking to me.' He bowed his head again, his eyes hidden. Harry knew that Draco was pretending to be blasé about what had happened; but, in truth, it must have taken a lot for him to be relatively honest with his mother and, in turn, have her angry at him.

'Sorry,' Harry said sympathetically. 'That's hard.'

Draco sighed and ran a hand over his head, 'well, it could have been worse and I'm actually glad it's out in the open you know…'

'Sure, but just let me know if it gets worse or something. I want to help. You've done so much for me.' And that was the truth. He was grateful for Draco's support.

'Harry, shut up,' Draco said sharply. "I don't want you thanking me and being all _grateful_,' he said pointedly and Harry pursed his lips tightly together at Draco's discerning words. 'I didn't do all this for you exactly, it's for me too. It was my choice. I decide what I do and did, all right? So it's ok…. I will deal with it.'

'Yeah, ok,' Harry said reluctantly.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Harry spent as much time with Draco as possible whilst still spending time with Ron and Hermione. It had got to the point where his friends had accepted his friendship with Draco, however grudgingly on Ron's part and so it made Harry's life a little easier. 

The rest of January passed in a cold, cloud of snow with February following on quickly. Harry had, once again, resumed his Occlumency lessons with Snape and was now successful in Occluding his mind well, much to his relief. Dumbledore had suggested that his lessons continue just once a fortnight rather than once a week, something for which Harry was immensely thankful. There was still no news on Voldemort's whereabouts; but frequent killings of muggles and wizards and further arrests of Death Eaters were reported nearly daily. Harry knew that his time to fight Voldemort would come one day but meanwhile, whilst he was still in school, he had to concentrate on academia life.

This particular evening, Harry and Draco were finishing up their Dark Arts homework. Harry found that he worked rather well with Draco. Draco was very thorough with research and very good at explaining long tedium's of text. Harry helped him with practical magic and Draco helped him with written coursework. They were quite a good team, a point that was not lost on Harry. Studying with Draco had many positive points. Harry could sneakily watch him and trace the contours of Draco's face with his eyes. Draco was very handsome. Really gorgeous. Very easy on the eyes…

Harry finally dragged his eyes away from Draco's face and towards the clock. He stretched back in his chair and Draco looked up at him with a sweet smile.

'Had enough?'

'Yeah,' Harry yawned.

Draco yawned back almost instantly and then flexed his fingers. 'Let's pack up then.' He began to gather his things and Harry sat quietly watching him.

'What?' Draco questioned, with his brows slightly raised.

Harry shook his head, 'nothing,' and busied himself by shoving things away in his bag.

'Hey, you know we were talking about summer? Well, I just realised that you said you might not be going back to live with your family in Surrey,' Draco burst out all of a sudden.

Harry stood up, and pursed his lips, giving a slight nod.

Draco slung his bag over his shoulder and came around the table and leaned against it next to Harry.

'How come?'

Harry looked at him and waited a heartbeat before replying. He very rarely had to lie to Draco about the Dursleys as it didn't come up all that much. Draco's questions were always innocent so Harry usually was able to easily lie his way across them.

'Um, well, Dudley might be going away to, um, University which is like higher education for muggles...' In all honesty, he had no idea what Dudley was planning to do with his life.

Draco raised his brow sarcastically. 'I _know_ what University is, Harry.'

Harry sniggered and shouldered his bag. Draco stood up straight and the both of them walked out of the room.

'Right, sorry. Well, umm, he will be gone soon and I figured that I'm going to be eighteen in the summer, which is old enough to live by myself. My aunt and uncle can, err, enjoy their time together.' Harry inwardly shuddered at the thought of his aunt and uncle enjoying any time together as he walked out into the main corridor. 'And, honestly, we don't always see eye to eye on things. They really are "muggle" muggles and don't always understand the magical world and I really don't want to live without, umm… Dudley there so…' he shrugged nonchalantly, 'it's not a big deal.'

'Oh,' Draco said, coming up behind him. 'I didn't know that. That's a pity you don't get along so well'. His tone was sympathetic and Harry thought what an understatement that was, but in actuality, Harry was all right with that synopsis. 'But I guess it would be interesting for you to have a house to yourself,' Draco continued.

Harry frowned as he reached the banisters. He really didn't want to live by himself, but he hadn't told Draco about The Order either. 'Remus will probably stay with me as much as he can.'

'When he's not being a werewolf?' Draco said shortly and Harry turned around and gave him a critical look.

'_I_ meant when he doesn't have things to do and plus the Weasleys will come round loads over the summer. And, anyway, now that I will be out of school, I'm going to have to you know…. 'He trailed off as both he and Draco knew that Harry would have to finally focus on Voldemort.

Draco rested his hand on the banister and Harry stood above him on the step.

'I'll walk you up,' Draco said and Harry smiled as they began to climb up. He and Draco could talk about nothing in particular and still not want to leave one another's company, at least that's how Harry felt and he was sure that Draco felt the same way.

'How come you're so weird in Knightly's class?' Harry asked going up the steps towards the tower. Draco came up next to him and snorted.

'I'm weird? I'm not weird. He is. You don't think he's creepy?'

Harry shrugged, 'I think he's all right. A bit moany but…'

Draco shook his head, 'I don't like him and he doesn't like me either.'

Harry grinned and glanced at Draco, 'okay then.' Draco gave him a _look _back.

After a few seconds Draco nonchalantly asked, 'hey, why did Creevey give you that paper thing at lunch?'

Harry looked at him, surprised, as they reached the sixth floor, 'how the hell did you manage to see that?' He hadn't known that Draco observed him so closely. That was nice to know.

Draco made a face, 'he gave it to you right there at the table. It was hard to miss.'

'Dennis had written out some game tactics for the match and Colin was just showing me,' Harry explained. 'Just wanted my opinion is all.'

'That's stupid.'

'So say you.'

'_Whatever_,' Draco looked annoyed and Harry found it amusing to tease him. It was adorable. Could Draco possibly be jealous?

'Is it not all right for him to ask me things?'

'I don't care all right,' Draco snapped. 'I'm just speculating. It's stupid. Weasley is the Captain and plus smarmy Creevey isn't even on the team.'

'You're _speculating?_' Harry repeated as they climbed the final set of stairs to the seventh floor.

'Yes.'

'Right.'

They reached the corridor and Harry saw a few Gryffindors going towards the portrait further ahead.

'So,' Draco said as they both stood together. 'You're not going back to the team at all this year?'

'I don't know,' Harry told him truthfully and shuffled a little deeper into the corridor. 'I feel a lot better than I did when I first came back. But the team have sort of settled now and…'

'Shut up,' Draco said cutting him off. 'They lost the cup last year and they lost again at the start of the year. They need you back and you know it - all this false modesty, there's no point to it. You want to go back then just tell Weasley.' Harry bit his thumb and then shrugged again. 'When was the last time you flew?' Draco persisted.

'Ages.'

'Miss it?'

'Yes.'

'If you feel up to it then you should go back, otherwise you're just an idiot who can fly really well.'

Harry let out a breathless laugh, 'gee, thanks.'

'Welcome,' Draco replied.

They fell silent and looked around them. There was no one around now and it was approaching ten thirty.

'So here we are.'

'Yup, thanks.' And here it was again. The ''tension''. It was happening more and more recently and Harry knew that it was his own feelings that were taking on another direction. He was starting to feel very, well, romantic towards Draco again and it was a welcome feeling. Scary but finally welcome again. He wanted this feeling to take flight. His lips turned into a knowing smile and Draco noticed.

'What?'

Harry could feel the small butterflies start up again in his stomach as he looked at Draco; looked at him standing there, his hand grasping his bag, his grey eyes looking at Harry intensely. His lips, his nose, his hair. Harry swallowed heavily and then stepped a little closer.

'Nothing,' he said lightly, 'just, it kind of reminds me of something.'

Draco looked confused, 'what reminds you of what?'

Harry pointed a finger at Draco and then back at himself. 'This…you walking me back to my…tower. My ''house''.'

'Huh?' Draco said, not catching on. Which was a little cute.

Harry licked his lips. 'It's like a muggle thing… or I don't know -- could be a wizard thing as well.' Then he frowned, 'though I've never really thought about it…'

'What the hell are you talking about?' Draco looked even more confused.

'_This_,' Harry emphasised. 'You walking me back. It's almost like a date thing... you walking me back to my house at the end of the night. It's a date thing.'

There he had said it. The change had come. Harry had brought it to the forefront and now it had to be dealt with. Funny how quickly dynamics can change. They weren't just friends anymore.

Draco's mouth dropped open slightly as if he couldn't quite believe Harry had just said words to that effect. He gawped for a second and then tried to reset his features. He coughed and then cleared his throat. 'Like a date?' he said a little hoarsely.

'Yeah, like a date,' Harry stated, his body wanting to sway a little closer to Draco but waited till he could gauge a reaction.

Draco hesitated and then continued to look a little baffled, but Harry was sure that he could see a glimmer in his eyes. 'You, um, err, do you want this to be like an end of date thing?'

Harry took a deep breath and dropped his bag onto the floor. 'If you're ready for it to be then, yes,' he said sincerely. 'I do. Are you?'

Draco looked as if the words were stuck in his throat and he swallowed before answering. 'Well… yes I am….' He wet his lips and looked all nervous. 'Are you sure?'

To answer Draco's question, Harry came forward and placed a small kiss on Draco's lips. Just enough to brush their lips together with a soft touch. Draco immediately drew away as if he had been stung and Harry froze and looked at him, concerned. For a moment he thought he saw tears in Draco's eyes, but couldn't be certain as Draco then came closer and took in a shuddering breath. He ducked his head forward to press his lips against Harry's and then kissed him back. The both of them standing in the corridor. Kissing. Harry suddenly felt all hot and flushed. He just wanted to grab Draco and manhandle him, in a really good way. He shoved Draco gently to the nearest wall out of sight and kissed him ravenously

Quite quickly, they literally fell upon each other – all teeth and lips, twisted in a mesh of crushing and licking and scraping. Harry unexpectedly had a picture in his mind of two tigers fighting and clawing and gripping one another in a documentary he had seen once at the Dursleys. You couldn't tell if they were in a haze of passion or so angry that they wanted to tear each other apart. However, he was not angry with Draco. Far from it. He was enthralled and excited by Draco and every nerve in body had come alive.

Short, sharp pants and the noise of lips and rustling of clothes as they were gripped. Each kiss bruising in itself. A stark contrast to the tender kiss he had placed on Draco's lips moments earlier as an initiation. His lips were grinding against his teeth and the burning sensation of Draco's lips was chaffing. If it were possible to rub ones lips off, he was sure his would have by now. His hand tightened around Draco's neck in a vicious grip as was Draco's around his. As if through their mouths they would swallow each other whole. In fact, being swallowed by Draco might not be so bad after all. There were worst things in life and of all the people to be swallowed by – Draco would be the first choice.

They pulled apart for a nanosecond, gasping. Harry felt light headed as he struggled for breath.

'Did I hurt you?' Draco breathed. His grey eyes bright, his cheeks red, his chest heaving.

Harry shook his head, 'no, not anymore. '

Draco looked at him with a serious look in his eyes and gulped again. His breath was scalding hot against Harry's face as he came closer again and pressed his lips onto Harry's once more. His kiss was hard and rough and beautiful. So real. Harry reciprocated the action and pushed his tongue into the mix. He pulled just hard enough at Draco's hair for it not to hurt, but for Draco to still feel the tug. Their tongues swirled and coiled intricately together. Wet and slippery.

Eventually they withdrew their tongues back into their own mouths and kissed with a gentle, slow pace that was reminiscent of their kisses when they had both first discovered each other's mouths. And so it had happened. Harry knew it would soon and that it was only a matter of time. And here it was.

Harry pulled his head back and stared at Draco's face and thought Draco hadn't ever looked as beautiful as he did now. He smiled and could feel his lips very much on his face. He gave a lopsided grin and was sure he had never been quite as aware of his lips as he was now. They felt bruised and used and so on his face. He chuckled and Draco dropped his hands down to his waist. Harry rubbed his nose on Draco's and then kissed it gently. He looped his arms around Draco's back and held him tightly and Draco squeezed him back with even more intensity. Their chests were pressed together and Harry could feel Draco's heart beating against him. He could feel Draco's head on his shoulder and turned his face to kiss the soft head of pale hair.

'I love you, Harry.'

And before Harry could say anything back, Draco drew his head up and his eyes locked with Harry's, his arms tightening even further. It almost felt to Harry as if Draco was afraid to let him go.

Draco suddenly gave a half sob and Harry frowned in alarm. 'Draco?' Draco looked up at him with grey eyes filled with tears, his face crumpling.

'What --- what's wrong?' He asked. 'Are you ok?' He rubbed Draco's arm hoping to alleviate Draco's obvious distress.

'I….. Oh God…' and tears slipped down Draco's face and Harry was so unprepared for that burst of emotion.

'Draco…' He felt his heart stop at the look of anguish on Draco's face.

'I never thought…' Draco struggled to say. 'I never thought that I could love someone so much…. As much as I love you…' he cried and Harry stared at him feeling stunned. Overwhelmed, He had never seen Draco so affected before. Not like this. He had no idea that Draco had been keeping his emotions so tightly lidded even though, apparently, they were just skating on the surface. He had no idea that Draco felt so deeply towards him. He hadn't dared think that.

'I was scared, Harry,' Draco said in a broken whisper and Harry cradled Draco securely in the circle of his arms, listening to him silently. 'I couldn't tell you all this time -- and certainly not back then. But I've been waiting and waiting to tell you. And it's been hell… I can't even tell you how it's been, waiting for you to get better and finally being able to tell you. I thought you were dead. I thought that was it.' He shook his head and his face was wet with tears as words poured out of him. 'I thought you were gone and I had lost you and I never told you how much I cared for and loved you. '

He started to sob then and Harry felt his eyes sting with sudden tears as he hugged Draco to him. 'I love you so much and no one would let me see you.' He pulled back and said in a rush, 'it took ages to convince them to let me see you and then when I did, I wanted to make it better for you. And I couldn't.' He shook his head again, as if trying to shake the words into order. 'And then you came out of hospital and I wanted to see you and spend time with you and it was so hard.'

He sniffed and swallowed his tears away taking in a deep breath. 'It was never a good time to tell you afterwards. I didn't know how you felt about me. I didn't know if you remembered everything. I didn't know if you hated me for what I had done.. . '

'Draco, I _never_ hated you…' Harry quickly told him softly.

Draco smiled and sniffed again, 'I love you so much, Harry. God, I love you so much. You have to know this. For always. You have to know. Ok?'

'I know,' Harry told him sincerely. 'I know now.'

Draco closed his eyes tightly, as if he were in pain. He inhaled deeply and then whispered, 'I….I've _waited so long _to say that to you. So long.' He took in another breath and leaned back a little. 'I've thought it plenty of times. So many times. I've told you so many times but it was always in my head, or you've been asleep or,' he gave a sad smile, 'unconscious.' He licked his lips and his hands tightened around Harry. 'I love you,' he whispered again as if it hurt to say it. As if he had been holding the words back for so long that finally releasing them out of captivity had taken a lot out of him and now he couldn't stop saying it.

'And I'm sorry,' earnest, grey eyes told him. 'It's important that you know. And I know that I waited nearly a year to tell you and it's ridiculous but I just never could say it before. The timing was always off and …but you have to know. That I'm sorry for hurting you.' And then he started to cry again, 'I'm so sorry. So --- sorry --- so sorry.'

Harry kissed his forehead and stroked his hair soothingly, 'Draco, please. It's ok. I know,' he said. And he had known, deep down, he knew that Draco was sorry.

'You know?' Draco asked.

'Yes. I know.' He hadn't probably needed Draco to say sorry, as Draco had more than made up for it since. His gestures, his concern for Harry – Harry knew. But obviously it was important for Draco to have told him finally. Harry could understand that now.

There was something strangely surreal about this moment – about all this. As if Draco and he were suddenly different people to the ones that had been standing here ten minutes ago. How profoundly words could radically change your lives. And there was something quite wonderful about being told that you were loved. It hadn't really ever happened to Harry before. Not like this.

He kissed Draco's lips and gently ran a thumb over his cheek, 'I had no idea that you had been well… bottling all this up. I'm sorry…' Draco shook his head in automatic refute and Harry said, 'wait, I meant. I'm sorry for what you've been going through. I had no idea; and you've been so strong for me and I'm sorry for your hurt, ok?'

Draco shook his head, 'it wasn't your fault. I was the idiot.'

'I'm not saying it's my fault, really – just I'm sorry, end of.'

Draco blew out a shaky breath and wiped his face and then cleared his throat. 'Well, I'm sorry too. It sucked. It's been a really _long _year.' He laughed slightly and kissed Harry's lips.

'Agreed,' Harry said softly and looked into grey eyes that were shining with emotion and…love. And then he said, 'I love you too, Draco. I love you too.'

Draco's lips widened into a smile and his eyes glittered again with what Harry assumed were happy tears as he brushed another kiss on Harry's lips and then hugged him fiercely.

Harry had once thought that, if life would let him, there would be time in the future to utter such things, when it would feel right for the both of them to hear it and say it to each other. And it had finally arrived. Unexpectedly, suddenly, without warning but at the right time. It was perfect as an imperfect moment – maybe the most perfect moment he would ever have. Or a start to many perfect moments…

They both stood there in the corridor contentedly and then Harry sighed. They were of course standing in a place where if anyone who walked around the corner, would see them – together—like this. He stroked Draco's neck and Draco turned his lips to kiss Harry's palm.

'We're kind of in the corridor. '

Draco made a rueful noise and then sighed as well and then leaned back and away and looked around them.

'Let's, umm, go somewhere,' Harry said, brushing his fingers across Draco's hair. 'Just down there.' He indicated with a nod and walked over to retrieve his bag from the floor.

'That weird room?' Draco said as he grabbed his bag and followed Harry down to the other side.

A minute later they were outside the Room of Requirement.

'Ok, do you know how to use this room?'

'Open it,' Draco deadpanned and Harry made a face.

'Yeah, yeah, smartass. But no cos there's no door. But anyway, imagine a…' Harry searched for words, 'a sitting room or something. Something with a large sofa.'

'Like our room?'

Harry grinned. 'Yeah, like our room.' The room which they used to use when they had first discovered each other's kisses. 'Keep the picture in your mind as we walk past this wall three times and when the door appears it should be a room similar to the one we used to use. Well a combination of what you think of and what I do I guess.'

Draco nodded and then closed his eyes as did Harry. They walked past the wall three times and the door appeared which Harry opened and entered.

It was a spacious room with a small door on the left, which Harry now imagined to be a bathroom. There was a large, red sofa with a blanket next to a fireplace with a large rug underneath it on wooden flooring.

'So this room turns into whatever you want?' Draco asked, looking around.

'Near enough, well yeah,' Harry said, putting his bag down.

Draco had a pensive look on his face as he looked about and Harry reached for his hand and drew him further into the room. Draco immediately dropped his bag onto the floor with a thump as did Harry and quickly drew Harry into a voracious kiss. Harry returned it enthusiastically and walked backwards, with his arms still around Draco. The back of his legs hit the sofa and he fell onto the soft cushions with Draco beside him.

They didn't speak for a long while, as they smothered one another with kisses. Long, drawn out kisses accompanied with short, sweet ones.

'I suppose it would be too much to think that we can do this every night,' Draco finally breathed.

Harry grinned, 'well, maybe but we can try…' he ended playfully.

However, Draco looked at him gravely, 'it's going to be different this time.'

'It's already different,' Harry returned softly. 'We're friends now and people know that. It will be easier somewhat.'

'Better,' Draco finished and brought his lips closer to Harry's as Harry pushed him down onto his back on the sofa. 'I still can't believe this is happening, seriously. It's like a dream that I've dreamt so many times but well – it never went like this.'

'This is better?' Harry asked and Draco nodded and whispered back.

'Much better. This is real. And so unexpected and kinda brilliant.'

They kissed softly and then moved back up to remove their shoes and cloaks, jumpers and ties. Harry didn't think he needed to confirm that he intended to spend the night here with Draco. He didn't really want to leave Draco at all - not tonight.

'We can stay here the night,' he said, just in case his intentions weren't clear and Draco grinned.

'I don't want to let you go either,' he said. 'And I'm not going to ever. So just get used to being with me all right? Because that's it. You and me.'

'You and me,' Harry kissed the words against his mouth and wound his arms around Draco as they lay down again. Just lying together, enjoying being wrapped up in one another. Harry couldn't stop thinking how wonderful everything suddenly seemed. Now that he really had Draco back. Now that they were together again.

A few minutes later he said, 'hey, listen...'

'Mmm?' Draco said kissing his chin.

'I don't think I want to tell Ron or Hermione yet …'

Draco kept silent and Harry peered into his face. 'It's nothing to do with being ashamed of us or anything. Just that they're just getting used to us being friends. I want to give it some time before I tell them and, honestly, I just want this for us right now.'

Draco smiled lazily and nodded, kissing Harry's cheek, 'that's fine by me. I agree. Show the world we are friends first, that way it might not be so hard later on.'

'Hopefully, well, yeah.'

'By the way,' Draco said as he slowly brushed his fingers through Harry's hair. 'Lupin kind of knows and so does Professor Snape.' He said it so casually and Harry didn't catch onto what he meant straight away.

'Know what?' His head jerked back.

'That I'm all in love. Oh and so does Dumbledore.'

'_Oh my God_,' Harry straightened up a little in shock. His palms suddenly clammy and his heartbeat picking up a few extra beats. 'OH MY GOD,' he exclaimed loudly again. 'How the hell do they know? I never told anyone about us.'

'Well,' Draco drawled, 'it's nearly been a _year_ and you were kinda in hospital for a while. A lot happened and well…' Draco puffed out a breath. 'And well actually the three of them found out the night you were attacked. I kind of told them.' He looked at Harry who was still feeling a little dumbstruck. 'I didn't do it on purpose. I mean I didn't mean to tell them. But you were…I thought you were dying and I was going nuts and was upset…' he shrugged. 'It just came out.'

Harry eyes widened as he tried to grasp the enormity of the three men knowing something so private about him. His throat a little dry now, he sank back down against Draco, 'so um they like know, _know_ about us?'

'Pretty much, yeah.'

Harry cast his mind back to Remus and Christmas. He had known all along. Everything Remus said now made even more sense. And plus, in that case, he had kind of given Harry his approval hadn't he?

'Dumbledore never said anything to me,' Harry said in wonder. 'Well I mean no one did. Not about us.'

'Well they wouldn't would they?' Draco told him, still running his fingers through Harry's hair. 'I had told them that we had broken up and stuff but that they could trust me and whatever. But you were so sick afterwards – it was obvious that you and I weren't going to jump back into a relationship any time soon.' Draco shook his head, 'you know what I mean…'

Harry nodded, still feeling peculiar about his personal affairs not being so personal anymore. Snape knew? Gross. And how come no one _had _mentioned anything to him? No one had said anything about Draco at all yet they had known. He couldn't help but feel a little weird and paranoid about it.

'How's Snape been about it?'

'Actually he hasn't been so bad about it.' Draco smiled and squeezed Harry to him. 'It could have been a lot worse. And he's dealing with it.'

Harry couldn't imagine Snape dealing with something like that. He shuddered at the thought of all the time he had now spent with Snape and all along Snape had known? Double gross. Yuck. But he was treating Draco well and hadn't hexed Harry yet so Harry supposed the man was taking it reasonably well.

'Do Ron and Hermione know?' he suddenly asked. It wasn't possible as Ron wasn't that good an actor but stranger things had happened.

'Nah,' Draco assured him. 'They just think we're friends.' But Harry wasn't too sure now. He could believe that Ron would think that they were just friends but he suddenly remembered Hermione's look on Christmas day… if anyone was going to jump to the right conclusion it would be Hermione. He sighed and leaned up to kiss Draco softly. Oh well, they would all find out sooner or later.

Harry gave an involuntary yawn and Draco smirked and kissed his lips as he closed his mouth again.

Draco nestled closer to his body and lifted the blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it around them.

'I'm glad it's Saturday tomorrow.'

'Me too,' Harry smiled, feeling oddly sleepy but content. He held Draco snugly, his hands gripping Draco's shirt. He was amazed and ecstatic with the night's outcome. Some other revelations had been a surprise but as he looked at Draco now and their tangled bodies together - he knew that it would be ok. He had Draco by his side now. Really by his side and the rest of his life would come together somehow. He would get through each day now gladly with Draco. They were both in love and they both knew it. And he was happy. Together at last.

TBC…

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**p.s I know canon Draco's birthday isn't in January BUT I had already set a date for Draco's birthday when I started to write Chariot. So Chariot!Draco's birthday will remain in January. xx**

**Thank you to** - Peilless, Grimy Grunhilda Grunt, DazedandConfuzed, riantlykalopsic, Gwaeren, Godlovesme, xxbabysparklesxx, California smells funny, yaoipheonix, H/D, if i were, Pink Cherry Blossom, Vessa, DeathSandHeavyDragonWing, All-knowing Alien, Nigelous, burnfaster, ¸LilyEvans79, -DracoHarryMalfoy-, Chyna16, Scoodoo58, James Rees, Anon, QuantumReality, themoviewitch, Stormy Iceheart, Robin the bird, Vampire Angel of Death, dreamerdoll, AloraBraken – **For reviewing The Hermit.**

**And thank you to all the kind readers who have reviewed my other stories. I horde every word. **


	19. Hedgehog

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling has every right to canon Harry Potter because she wrote it. **

**Karina saying: **Snore. I'm sure many of you may have fallen asleep whilst waiting for me to update. Sorry. Lol. But better late than never. Also, there are only a few more chapters left of The Hermit so thanks so much for sticking by the story and reading thus far! Xxx

**Thank you to my beta who pinched this chapter into shape. And for encouraging me and for helping out and just being her really. **

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**Chapter Nineteen – Hedgehog**

'Harry,' Draco whispered urgently. 'It's a quarter to eight.'

'Mmmm,' Harry moaned softly and snuggled closer to Draco.

'Oy, no,' Draco gently pushed at him, after dropping a quick kiss amidst his hair.

'Harry, you awake?' Finnegan cried out.

'_Fuck, Harry, get up, wake up_,' Draco jostled him urgently and Harry let out a disgruntled groan.

The charm around the bed turned blue and Draco's eyes widened in horror. He elbowed Harry hard in the ribs and Harry yelped. '_Wake up, dickhead_,' he hissed.

Harry grumbled, his green eyes opening in an instant and flashing furiously at Draco. Draco quickly grabbed his wand and undid the silencing charm.

'Harry?' Finnegan again.

'_I'm awake_, _I'm awake_,' Harry shouted out, glaring at Draco and rubbing his side. Draco sighed quietly and lay back on the pillow. Harry sat up and stretched, yawned and rubbed his eyes and then turned to look down at Draco, poking his tongue out. Draco made a face back as Harry reached under the pillow and chucked the invisibility cloak at Draco.

He sniffed loudly in an indignant fashion and then climbed off the bed and out of the curtains. Draco let out a jaw-splitting yawn and threw the cloak over himself to follow Harry. He loved being able to spend the night with Harry but sneaking around like this, literally undercover, did get tiresome at times. He muffled another yawn as he sidestepped a few of the boys in the room. Harry's roommates were not particularly pleasing to the eye first thing in the morning. Draco usually preferred not to linger and make his way quickly back to his dorms. He yawned for the third time as he approached the doorway and then suddenly stopped and eyed the corridor with a mischievous smile

Harry was stumbling groggily towards the bathroom and Draco quietly followed him, chuckling under his breath. Harry was wearing a white t-shirt and blue boxers and made quite a comical picture in his bare feet and sticky-up hair. It had grown quite a bit since the year had started and Draco could now happily run his fingers through the once again long, soft, black strands.

Once inside the bathroom, Draco ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding some of the Gryffindor boys as they piled in towards the sinks and showers.

Harry went towards the urinal and Draco amused himself by knocking down Thomas's toothbrush and flannel under the toilet stalls.

A minute later, Harry came back towards the sink and cracked a huge yawn and then sleepily started to open the taps. Draco grinned inwardly and came up behind Harry, pressing his cloaked body close up behind him.

Harry froze in surprise and looked up in the mirror that hung above the sink. Of course he couldn't see anything. Draco lightly pinched his bottom and saw Harry grin at himself in the mirror. He pushed back slightly into Draco and Draco caught him around the waist lightly, rubbing his behind slowly through the cloak and boxers that covered Harry's bottom.

Draco had never got back at Harry for the lab incident all those months ago. This wasn't exactly payback; more of a taste of things to come, Draco thought wickedly, as he placed a soft kiss on Harry's left shoulder. Finnegan came and stood beside Harry and began splashing water in his face. A few more Gryffindor boys came in and they all started talking about this and that whilst Draco rubbed at Harry slowly through the invisible material.

Harry was trying not to moan and sigh as Draco's hands slipped lower and in front on his stomach.

It was probably approaching eight o' clock and Draco thought he really ought to be getting back to his dorms. He hugged Harry lightly and kissed his neck and reluctantly whispered in his ear, 'I better go. See you later.' He pressed a soft kiss on the back of Harry's neck and then slipped his hands away. Harry grinned into the mirror again and then quickly caught Draco's hand and squeezed it lightly before letting go. It was a little bit beautiful being in love, Draco thought blissfully.

* * *

The days were passing alarmingly and February was finishing much too quickly for Draco's liking. Yet again. He guessed that it was the thought of school finishing and his time with Harry coming to an end behind safe walls that made him so uneasy. He was so completely enamoured by Harry and having Harry love him back made him the happiest he had ever been. He wasn't holding back any affection at all and instead smothered Harry with kisses and touches. Just thinking about Harry made him smile and when they were together he felt blessed and he wasn't even religious.

One negative aspect to it all would be his mother still not talking to him. She hadn't owled him since he had come back from the holidays but he had heard through the grapevine - as in Pansy – that his mother was safe and sound in France. She would come around, he was sure of that. It would just take time, as it had done with his fellow Slytherins. Miraculously, Pansy had started to speak to him again. She had come up to him a few weeks ago with tears in her eyes and a quivering lip, telling him that he had made it so hard for her to trust him (he successfully had tried not to snort) but had decided that they were old friends and she didn't want to lose his friendship. To that he had been genuinely surprised, thanked her and left it at that. They weren't as friendly as before, not that he cared really, but Pansy was at least talking to him and not dropping her eyes every time she saw him, avoiding him. That had proven quite difficult for her as they were in the same house.

Vince and Greg had acted similarly; however, Draco had been the first one to reach out to his oldest friends. He had sent them each a Christmas card and, when he returned from the holidays, he had waited for them to initiate the first greeting. Vince had said, 'hello' first followed by Greg. Draco had appreciated their gesture and again, not even coming close to the friends they were once, being on talking terms with them was a great achievement. As for the rest of the Slytherin's, they generally ignored him – which was still a weird feeling. He wasn't used to being ignored. Surprisingly enough he spent most of his time with Blaise when he wasn't with Harry. He never would have thought that he could be friends with Blaise. But she was clever and smart and sarcastic and, actually, he rather liked her company.

In other news, all the coursework for the year was to be handed in very soon and Draco was determined to do well on his finals so he made sure he left himself enough time to achieve his goals. He had even rubbed off on Harry – who had completed most of his outstanding pieces of course work from last year as well as his essays for this year. Harry had told him that Hermione had been forced to admit that some part of Draco had been a good influence on Harry. Draco could respect Granger for that comment. After all it was true. Not that Harry was stupid, he was just unmotivated when it came to writing essays and Draco knew that Harry and Weasley had always heavily relied on Granger. Now Harry relied on Draco – which was rather nice. In turn, Draco had received a lot of help from Harry in practical magic. Harry was easily the most powerful wizard in their year; he found that charms and spells came easily to him without much effort at all. He could light up the whole of Hogwarts with candles with barely any exertion. Draco knew this to be true as Harry and he had experimented once with creepy Knightly.

Harry's raw magic was leaps and bounds ahead of any of his classmates and the fact that he could now control his magic made him a force to be reckoned with for which Draco was eternally grateful. Harry had to keep his own when he faced Voldemort. He had even recently begun extra, private tutorials with Professor Snape for duelling. Draco had gone to watch for a bit the other day till his housemaster had chucked him out of the room. But Harry told him later on that he was doing all right and was glad for the extra skills. Thank goodness for small mercies.

* * *

One Saturday afternoon in March, after eating lunch, Harry and Draco ventured to the grounds searching for potion ingredients that Professor Snape had instructed them to find for class. As final year students, they should be able to identify many herbs and plants by sight and smell and, of course, Professor Snape had set them a particularly tricky mock practical for the coming class. The students had to pick their own ingredients from the grounds and then concoct the potion during class. Draco had always been better than Harry at this kind of assignment. Draco took his time observing and looking; Harry would rather cast a quick spell and zap the ingredient into his hand. He was so impatient.

'Let's go down the hill?' Draco suggested, pointing down towards the thick trees that were on the other side of the lake and Harry trudged after him, dragging his feet.

'I'm bored,' Harry moaned. They had spent half an hour of looking for his first plant and still hadn't found it. 'I can just do a locating charm and…' he griped as Draco pushed him along.

'Stop whining, for crying out loud. That's not the point. Just summoning it. The task is to be able to identify it.'

'Who cares?' Harry yelled out indignantly, digging in his heels. 'Who cares, as long as I have the right ingredients and make a wonderful potion?'

Draco ignored him and shoved at him again as they walked along the grass and towards the hill. Sulky Harry was rather cute. He was rather cute all over really. And he didn't even know it. Wasn't even aware of the effect he had on Draco. Draco smiled fondly and stopped himself from reaching for Harry and kissing him.

'All right, say you don't have your wand and you have to find the vital ingredient by sight.'

Harry snorted loudly and turned back to face Draco, 'then I'll concentrate really hard and focus.'

'And what if your raw magic is out of whack that day? What if you're hurt and can't focus?'

'Urgh, _Hermione_,' Harry rolled his eyes at Draco and Draco gave him a _look_ back. 'What, _Hermione_, is something wrong?' Harry teased but walked along with Draco nonetheless.

Draco ignored him, 'we know that your stupid plant grows near the base of trees, so there is a whole thick of them down there…' Draco was now standing on top of the hill looking down.

Suddenly he felt Harry's hands around his waist and let out a shriek as Harry pushed them over the hill and toppling down.

'Hey,' Draco exclaimed as they rolled to the bottom.

Harry had landed on top of him, his green eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

'What?' he said innocently. 'I'm just trying to make your nature walk more fun.' And with that he placed a wet, sloppy kiss on Draco's lips. They were virtually hidden down here, under the hill with the large trees shielding them, so Draco kissed Harry back unconcerned. He suddenly realised that sometimes he didn't close his eyes when kissing Harry; when he was conscious of it, he didn't want to close his eyes, because looking at Harry's face was so much better.

He laughed breathlessly as he grasped Harry tightly above him.

'Oy,' he said after a moment, 'what did Granger say when she didn't see you come back to the common room last night?'

Harry shrugged and bent his head down and sucked at Draco's neck gently. He pulled back after a few seconds. 'Nothing. I said that we were talking and it got late so we stayed in the room of requirement is all.'

Draco smirked, 'she knows, you know that right? I mean how else explain your occasional non-occurrence in the Gryffindor dorms at night? How many other ''friends'' have sleepovers with their non-housemates?

Harry looked down at him thoughtfully and brushed Draco's hair back from his face.

'Yeah, I think she kinda does know but Ron really, really doesn't; so, as long as she is playing along, I'm gonna too. I mean we don't act all together exactly when we are together in front of them or anyone else really.'

Draco stroked Harry's face and then pulled him down for another kiss. True, they never acted ''together'' in front of people, but they did appear to be very close friends. Laughing and joking constantly, talking amongst themselves and ignoring other people, finishing each others sentences… Draco was beginning to think that Blaise was starting to catch on as well but, like Granger, if she was playing along, so would he till the time came to come clean.

'But,' Draco said, thinking out aloud. 'Your friends must have noticed that you've perked up a bit since we sort of became ''friends'' right?'

'Yeah, course,' Harry said casually. 'Obviously they have noticed a change since you and I have been spending time together. But cos they aren't going to be thinking things like, ''Malfoy and Harry are together'', they must be justifying it to themselves in other ways. Like ''Harry probably needed a friend who wasn't in Gryffindor'', or ''Harry needed something different''.'

Draco raised a brow and Harry laughed, 'I don't know. But people will make up their own stories won't they? On why I'm acting the way I am… it's natural isn't it?' He shrugged and then pressed his face in the crook of Draco's neck.

'Anyway, let's have some fun before we start looking again,' Harry mumbled against his neck and Draco felt a pleasurable shiver run through his body. He couldn't resist Harry's kisses, the feel of Harry's breath on him. He couldn't resist Harry full stop. How had he existed before loving Harry? He grinned slightly, he was becoming quite romantic in his old age, or you know, Harry had brought out the romantic side to him. He didn't even know he had one before.

'_Ok_,' Draco sighed exaggeratingly, clearing his head. 'If I must.'

He quickly engulfed Harry in his arms tightly and rolled him over flat onto his back, pressing down on him with his weight. Immediately Harry let out a pained cry and Draco quickly moved back and looked down at Harry face.

'_Owww_,' Harry cried out as his face contorted in a pained expression.

'What?' Draco panicked, looking at Harry frantically, 'what's wrong? Shit, have I broken something?'

'Oww,' Harry groaned pitifully again, writhing uncomfortably in the grass.

'What the hell's the matter?' Draco's heart was starting to beat faster as he ran his hands over Harry's doubled over form.

'Something hurts,' Harry gasped. 'Owww,' and his hands went down towards his legs. 'Somewhere…'

'Wait,' Draco said and sat up. 'Where does it hurt exactly?'

Harry's brows wrinkled, 'umm dunno… I think my bottom…'

'What?' Draco said and his eyes shot down to Harry's arse. 'Where?'

'On my butt _somewhere_,' Harry said angrily and then he squeezed his eyes shut.

'Ok, well turn over, you might have rolled onto something.'

Harry gingerly rolled over with another, 'owwwwch.'

'Right, well,' Draco ran his hands over Harry's cloak-covered bottom. Harry instantly winced. 'Ok, ok, sorry,' Draco said and looked at the black cloth, frowning. 'Harry, I can't see anything…'

'Well, it's still there and it fucking stings,' Harry shot out and Draco knew the pain must have been bad as Harry hardly ever swore.

'Well let's take off your cloak,' he suggested and Harry undid the front as Draco pulled it away from him. He peered closer at Harry's now trouser covered bottom. 'Still can't see anything,' and he lightly ran his hands over Harry's bottom again.

Harry instantly jumped, 'oww,' he said crossly.

'All right, fine,' he sighed. 'But I can't see anything so I can't take _it _out.'

Harry went silent and then flexed his bottom and Draco smiled in amusement, till Harry gasped in pain again.

'It's still there,' he complained. 'I can feel it!'

'Well, we're gonna have to take your trousers down.'

'No,' Harry snapped back.

'Do you want me to get it out or not?' Draco admonished. 'It could be a nettle or a splinter…'

'Fine,' Harry huffed, turning his head back to look at Draco. 'Just whatever…just get it out.'

Draco lifted up Harry's jumper. 'Undo your trousers then…'

Harry unbuckled his trousers and loosened them and Draco tugged them down along with Harry's boxers in one swift motion. Before he had a chance to admire Harry's exposed arse, he caught sight of a small, dark, pointy protrusion on the left curve of Harry's bottom.

'Well?' Harry snapped, craning his head back again.

'Umm,' Draco looked closer. 'I think…it's a bee sting…'

'Huh?' Harry's head jostled to the side as if trying to see it as well. Obviously he couldn't.

'Well, I think you rolled over on a bee…' Draco leant back and automatically looked about for a crushed bee.

'Who the hell cares about the bee?' Harry yelled, 'just get the damn thing out. In pain here.'

'Sorry, yes ok,' Draco quickly said and grabbed his wand. He leant down again and wrinkled his nose at the bee sting. The little sucker had gone in rather deep as Draco could see a faint dark mark under the skin. It kind of did look like a splinter, a sort of large, painful looking one… He frowned at it and then said, 'ok, just take a deep breath all right?'

'Yeah, yeah,' Harry muttered and wiggled side to side for a second.

Draco tried not to laugh and pointed his wand at Harry's bottom. 'I really shouldn't be aiming this at your arse…'

'Well you had better ''focus'' then,' Harry said pointedly and Draco nodded, sitting up on his knees properly and trying to focus.

In the next second he had summoned the bee's stinger out and, quickly, blood droplets formed where the stinger had gone into Harry's skin. Draco froze for a second as the bright- red blood welled up.

'Is it out?' Harry swivelled his head again, looking back at Draco.

'Huh?' Draco said, 'oh, sorry, yes,' he answered, shaking his head. He immediately pressed his thumb over the blood and then wiped it away, smearing it a little. He hated to see Harry bleed, and it was totally ridiculous as this was barely an injury, but the sight of Harry's blood was upsetting him. He sucked his thumb instinctively, now coated with the taste of Harry's blood. He never wanted to see Harry bleed, ever again. His heart constricted suddenly and he told himself to get a grip and stop being so irrational over such a little thing.

'Wait, I can heal it,' he said and cleared his throat. He cast a small healing spell on the sting. 'All better,' he whispered. 'You're all right now.'

'Thanks,' Harry chuckled, his eyes catching Draco's. Draco gave him a quick smile. He was being silly. It was stupid but Harry gazing at him with his sweet, green eyes and lovable glasses and cute lips… he felt an outrageous urge to want to be able to protect Harry forever. From all harms' way. Was that even possible? It wasn't was it? Harry was watching him now, in fact looking a little concerned.

He cleared his throat again and then smiled playfully, trying to shake away his gloomy thoughts. 'Want me to kiss it extra better?'

Harry grinned and he did look rather funny and adorable, leaning on his elbows, flat on his stomach, in the middle of the grass with his bottom exposed and his trousers around his knees.

'Umm,' Harry hesitated and then peered at Draco over his glasses. 'Umm ok.' He took in an uneven breath and Draco grinned as he lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on where Harry had been stung. Harry moved slightly and then let out a soft sigh as Draco's lips dragged across and over onto the other side.

His breathing laboured as Draco paused for a second and then brought his hands up to glide over Harry's skin. Soft, gentle caresses and now Draco's breath was coming faster and suddenly it didn't seem so innocent anymore. He wasn't just kissing away Harry's injury, he was… he flickered out his tongue and lapped at a spot before sucking and Harry gasped or moaned; which ever it was, Draco was sure it was a pleasured sound.

He gripped Harry's hips and his kisses became a little more hungrier, more wet, more tongue and Harry moaned again and let out a throaty, 'Draco…'

'Mmm,' Draco murmured as he sucked on Harry's skin, tasting the soap from a recent shower and feeling Harry's skin beneath his tongue.

'Harry…' he said, his voice a little hoarse. 'You want to turn over?' he swallowed and drew his head back a little, his breath fanning hotly over Harry. He thought he could almost feel Harry's gulp and his fingers ghosted along the sides of Harry's waist, down his hips. He wanted this.

'Umm,' Harry said again, obviously incapable of saying much else at the moment. But then there was an, 'err…'

'It's ok if you don't want to...' Draco said, clearing his throat but found his lips dropping onto Harry's skin again. 'I just…' and his fingers squeezed Harry's hips again, his thumbs tracing over the curves.

He felt Harry move slowly, slightly onto his side. Small, uncertain movements and he rubbed Harry's bottom again and kissed the side of his hips as Harry finally turned over. Draco couldn't help but let out an appreciative groan and his tongue automatically strained to get closer, as his hands drew Harry's trousers lower so he could gain more access. He looked up at Harry and dilated green, hazy eyes looked back at him. Harry's mouth was open taking in small breaths. He was so turned on and Draco felt a rush of passion jolt through him and his palms became a little sweaty, or Harry had broken out in a nervous sweat…He managed to mumble, 'you ok?'

Harry nodded, closing his eyes and leaning back on his elbows.

Draco ducked his head forward and shot out his tongue to taste Harry. He had really wanted to do this for a long time but had always tried to put that side of their relationship on hold or away. But he realised now that they could take it further. They were together. They trusted one another. They loved one another and this was a natural progression even though neither of them had mentioned yet. Well, apart from now, because this was happening. Now. Finally.

He wanted to devour all of Harry and there was no method to his approach. Just lots of tongue and then lots of sucking and engulfing, fingers digging into Harry's hips as Harry eventually collapsed onto his back with breathy moans. His hands had found their way from ripping shreds of grass, to pulling gently, but forcefully, on Draco's hair.

'Dray…co,' he groaned, 'I'm gonna… wait…you ermm…'

But that made Draco go all the more faster, more teasing licks, his one hand coming up to take Harry in his fist; rubbing and touching as his tongue licked the tip and around.

He really wanted Harry to feel this, feel good, feel him and he was so aroused himself; he wanted to hump against something like a rabid dog.

'Draco, I'm gonna come, _really_,' Harry cried out and Draco pulled his hips further in, his mouth closing over Harry just as Harry's hips thrust upwards and he moaned his way through as Draco felt a gush of warm fluid in his mouth. He had never tasted it before. But that didn't deter him. It was his first time with Harry and frankly he wasn't willing to miss a single drop. He determinedly sucked and swallowed till Harry's body lay lax and his breath came in short pants, the pressure relaxing from Draco's hair.

Draco swallowed again and then drew his head back, licking his lips as Harry puffed away; his eyes closed, his cheeks red.

'Ok?' Draco asked, his fingers stroking inwards towards Harry's thighs and in between his legs. Harry started at the contact across his sensitised skin and Draco smiled and placed a small kiss there before rubbing Harry's hips soothingly.

'I'm ummm,' Harry tried to articulate and then opened his eyes and perched himself back up on his elbows. His hand trailed over to Draco and around his neck, coaxing his face for a kiss, which Draco gave willingly. He lay Harry back down on the grass, his hands around Harry's back, his lips kissing Harry's lips, his tongue entangling with Harry's, his breath rushing into Harry, his aroused body lying over Harry.

'That was ok, yeah?' he breathed onto Harry's lips and Harry nodded.

'Yeah… yes… that was…um.'

'Better not just be umm,' Draco chuckled and kissed Harry again.

'No,' Harry laughed breathlessly, 'it was incredible...I... I never imagined what it would feel like. And wow…' he chortled then and Draco hugged him tightly.

'I love you,' he murmured under his breath so Harry quite easily could not heave heard his declaration as he pressed his face into Draco's neck.

'I'm still kinda exposed…' Harry mumbled and Draco let his hands drop further down to give his bottom a squeeze.

'Yup you are,' he said, his eyes closed. 'Can you imagine someone walking past now…' and with those words Harry yelped out and leaned back.

'I think I'd like me done back up now,' and he quickly pulled up his boxers and trousers. Draco sat back on his knees looking a little mournful as Harry was hidden out of sight again.

'That was like an accidental blow job, 'he said thoughtfully.

'Accidental?' Harry laughed. 'Like you were walking by with your mouth open and I was flapping my dick around and you fell on it?'

Draco lifted a brow, 'nice,' he said, 'pretty picture.'

Harry laughed and sat up, reaching out to stroke Draco's cheek. 'Sorry, but just the thought of an accidental blow job. It's funny.'

'Well,' Draco shrugged, smiling and catching Harry's hand and kissing it. 'I wasn't all like, ''baby, today I'm gonna give you a blow job'' was I?'

Harry sniffed and shook his head.

'So, technically, it could have been an accidental blow job.'

Harry snorted and laughed again, 'well I want more accidental blow jobs like that, thank you very much. I mean it was rather nice.'

'You want more, huh?' Draco said playfully, thinking that he could do with one himself about now.

'Yep,' Harry said with conviction and Draco couldn't resist leaning forward and kissing his lips once more. Harry sighed with a happy sound and drew his arms around Draco and kissed him thoroughly for a minute before pulling back. 'Do you think we can experiment and I can try and give you an intentional blow job?' He looked quite sincere about it and his words went straight to Draco's nether regions and he shifted uncomfortably with his obvious excitement.

'Err... well, I really wouldn't say no. When you were you thinking of comporting said experiment?'

Harry grinned back at him, 'now?'

'Now?' Draco laughed.

'Well now as in, "how quickly can we run back to the room and I can get your trousers off'' now?'

'Well,' Draco said, getting up, 'let's not waste any time then. Far be it for me to get in the way of your discoveries,' and then he grinned. 'Plus I think my dick's going to burst through my trousers and I kinda need to do something quickly.'

Harry guffawed and squeezed Draco's hand as he stood up and hugged Draco lightly before he raced Draco back towards the main building with a smirk on his face.

* * *

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